Gratitude should be our default attitude

Between Columbia and Union Street in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, there was a neighborhood pizzeria.  After picking my son after work, Philip wanted a slice and I felt inclined to take him.   Almost all New Yorkers can remember the squeegee men of the 1990s.

On this particular day, after ignoring the squeegee man's services to wash my windshield with a white stained t-shirt, the gentlemen asked if he could have a dollar for pizza.  Appealing to my good nature, I offered him the dollar.  As we walked towards the pizzeria, he came back and asked if he could have money for a soda.  Here, I was taken aback to Luke's story of the ungrateful healed lepers.  Here was a man that asked money for food.  I gave him money for food and he came back asking for more.

Still, I would still try to do good.  I told the gentleman that I had soft drinks in the trunk of the car, having returned from the market.  The gentlemen responded that he wanted a soft drink that was iced. And this is when I chose to end our conversation.