Other People’s Children

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

I don’t know who this will surprise — precisely — but I’m a bleeding heart libertarian. Always was. My worst acts of hooliganism and coming home with my umbrella broken — before the weaponized umbrella — after raining blows on some unrighteous who richly deserved it were in protection and support of the smaller and the weak. Mostly human smaller and weak people. Not always human, since the other huge hole in my head is that I have trouble distinguishing between pets and people. Heck, sometimes between pests and people.

I was the sort of little girl forever bringing home lost kittens who needed to be bottle nursed, critters who’d got hit by cars, little birds who’d fallen from nests. My rate of success at raising/getting all those out of danger, and either freed or found new homes was higher than anyone had the right to expect. (Weirdly it never even occurred to me to want to be a veterinarian. Mostly I think because Portugal at the time was veyr poor so most of what people were willing to pay veterinarians for was cows and horses. And that was right outside my personal experience in treating.)

Of course, you see, every such case involved diplomacy to make sure mom wasn’t going to prematurely “free” the animal or put it out of her misery, or– (Mostly for baby birds.)

Mom — weirdly considering she married dad who is worse than I am and will make a pet of absolutely anything and was the son of a woman who had even more issues with bleeding heart than either of us — had a complicated view of the animal kingdom. It was either food, or a nuisance. Nothing in between.

IF you could get an animal under her radar, to where she considered it part of the tribe, she would look after it and protect it — our evil (not to us!) Siamese, Calimero, whom dad dragged home tiny and in need of hand nursing — but you couldn’t ever say she was attached to them.

I think she felt a little weirded out by the family’s obsession with animals, and tried to disguise her own discomfort (and here I want to point out left to our devices dad and I — not to mention brother — absolutely would have turned the house into the weirdest animal shelter that ever lived, with everything from lizards to goats.) with animals in the house, she fell back into something so at odds with her political views as to be nonsense. “I don’t condone spending money and time on animals, when there are people’s children who are starving.”

This was bizarre and mind boggling, since she was the one who hard-slapped sense into her — bleeding heart, remember? — young daughter about “there are people you can’t help, and you should be very careful about giving money to people you don’t know. You might do more harm than good” when my church group fundraised for a family in distress, only to have the parents spend it on wine, and the kids never see so much as a toothpick from it. At the same time she was generous both in time — she was always there to help a young widow or people who were ill — and expense: she sewed complete wardrobes for the kids from the slums who attended my school occasionally for a few months (half naked, or in completely inappropriate to the weather clothes) and discreetly funded school trips for my classmates who couldn’t afford it. And she paid for renovations for people whose houses were falling apart.

However she was very aware that “there will be people’s children starving, always” because the problem is not lack of help, it’s parents who will do that no matter what.

I was thinking about that yesterday, as we were giving our very old cat — Havey — his meds. And I thought, we’re spending a bunch of money to keep him pain free in his old age (he’s basically on hospice level pain killers) and we go through a lot of trouble to do subcutaneous hydration twice a week. And–

And I thought “Our cats are treated better than a lot of kids in the third world.” I didn’t think it with guilt understand — there’s nothing I can do for those kids. Oh, we sponsor a couple of them through a thoroughly vetted association and — de minimis in harm — hope it’s not the sort of thing that stifles local production and such. BUT– but with a forlorn wish that I could help THEM too.

Look, I behave the way I do not because of religious precept (that too, of course, but honestly I was functionally a-religious for much of my life, and anyway, I’m still me. I’m not going to do this or that because someone says so. even if the someone is Him. Well, different now, and more likely to because I have a relationship with Him. And I don’t do obedience, but I do “my friend would like this.”) but because I want the world to be the sort of place where people do things like protect the weak, help the helpless, bring light into the darkness, give hope to the hopeless.

I learned early on and through various experiences that the world isn’t always that sort of place: that it more resembles the Noir hell holes of hard bitten fiction all too many times. That there are always bastards looking to put the boot in; people you didn’t even realize you had more than a passing acquaintance with who inexplicably hate you and go out of their way to f*ck you over; and a horde of weaklings and sniveling cowards hoping to kick someone else who is down.

And yet…. And yet there are people like my grandmother, and my dad, and yes Mom (though Mom’s upbringing made her more cautious and hard headed) who not only don’t kick you when you’re down, but will try to help. And often will try to help while preserving your dignity as a human being.

Take our mailman back in the village. Everyone knew he drank. A lot. But normally not on the job. And then one day he passed out in front of our house, hit his head. There was a lot of blood.

Mom brought him inside, called the doctor and got someone else to do the rest of his route, so he wouldn’t be fired.

Since he was barely an acquaintance — as far as possible in a village from a friend — and since I was 10, and starting to get a feeling people talked, I got my nose out of joint. Afterwards, after his neighbors had come to take him home, I complained to mom that people would talk about how she’d gone out of her way to help him, even though he was nothing to us. Why go out of her way for a man who was a drunkard and the village joke.

That was when she told me that when she and dad got married, the man and his wife had been mom and dad’s friends. And then she died of something, very fast (probably cancer. The village was ashamed of cancer. Not sure why) and the same year their only son caught some illness, and it progressed to meningitis so he became mentally impaired.

The man drank because even if he ever wanted to marry again no one was willing to take on a — then — teen who had to be looked after like a toddler. But note, he didn’t institutionalize his son. He just looked after him as best he could, did his job, paid someone to look after him during the day. It’s just he couldn’t crawl back out of the bottle he’d crawled into that year. “We all have weaknesses.”

And that was a reality I couldn’t deny. That my family — and other people in the village, here and there, and other people in the wider world too — weren’t bastards out for what they could get and using people as things.

At some point, before I was a teen, I decided I wanted to be the sort of person who did the things that the world was short on: Mercy and kindness, and helping others.

Realizing that I can’t “save every cat” took longer. Sometimes Dan has to remind me of this.

But I do what I can, when I can. If I can help it without making the other person obligated.

Mom’s dichotomy is wrong. There isn’t a single child, in a third world country, whose life will be made better if I mistreat my cats or throw them out into the cold world to die. Same with animals that aren’t mine. Right now there’s a heated house on our porch for the cats in this blustery weather, and we put out food. There’s a family of them, mom and two grown sons, and the mom is about to pop again. This doesn’t impede us trying to help kids, too, both nearby and across the world.

In the same way, this year, because we could, we sent gifts to kids of friends. They don’t need it, but it’s fun stuff their parents might not think of, and it will make the world a place where there’s unexpected joy. This also doesn’t take away from any kids in the third world experiencing privation.

Because most of the kids in the world being mistreated are either at the mercy of evil adults who would not take kindly or allow our interference, OR caught in situations where their entire country and culture is so screwed up their parents wouldn’t even UNDERSTAND how to fix it, let alone being able to. And much less us strangers.

And when trying to help those situations it’s very important to make sure the charity you’re dealing with is actually a charity, not you know a “guns to South America” band of hopeful Marxists, or — like the heifer project — just providing a few meat feasts to a few villages every once in a while (because the requirement to share wealth doesn’t allow people to keep animals for livestock and let their wealth grow.)

Even when helping abroad, it’s best to go through people who KNOW the regions, the shortcomings of the culture, and do what they can around the edges. Because, you know, it’s helpful to know the money won’t go for drink or worse.

This isn’t always possible. So– I tend to favor charities that make it possible for women to earn a living. Sewing machines and the like. Yes, I do realize some of those will be sold and the money wasted. And it’s not that I think women are special and deserve more help.

It’s more that in the cultures where this stuff is given, women often desperately need a way to provide for themselves and their children. And studies show family wealth rises if the woman can bring in some money from home without “shaming” her husband. So the money goes there, when I have it for strangers. Usually my charity is less official. And often less monetary: helping a newby with a book. Talking someone’s kid through a short story project. Promoting a young (or not so young) writer who deserves it. Stuff like that.

BUT none of it — none of it — is hurt by my looking after my idiot cats or helping my children, or loving and helping my friends.

Love and care and helping — in the measure you can. Please, never hurt yourselves — is not finite. Oh, money is, but money isn’t the only help there.

Yes, the world is a hard, unforgiving place. And that’s why it falls on us to bring love, charity, care into it.

It’s up to us to bring light. Not to wait for the government or someone else to come and do it, but to do it ourselves.

And to do it in the measure that it’s possible — sometimes it’s a smile and a kind word to a sad looking stranger — and to those closest to us and that we know best.

So, this Christmas? Even if you don’t have the money, and even if the critters don’t know it’s Christmas (Or Hanukah) try to bring a little light into the world, in a small way. Even if it’s just feeding a stray cat, or sitting on the sofa for an hour longer than you’d like, and petting an elderly bag of bones and fur. Or bake cookies for your family if such is a thing. Or read someone’s first story and try to help (or reassure them it’s good.) Or talk a little longer to the old lady in the grocery store, whose family lives far away. Or whatever you can do, in the measure you can nearby or for people and animals you know.

The world is indeed cold and dark. Particularly in winter. And other people’s children, somewhere, will always be in danger pain and privation.

Which is why you should bring light and love in the measure you can, in your interactions. Because the light breaks up the darkness. And makes this a world fit for humans.

37 thoughts on “Other People’s Children”

  2. “Because you, mouse, can tell Gregory a story. Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.” – Kate DiCamilo, The Tale of Desperaux (https://bookroo.com/quotes/the-tale-of-despereaux)

    I forget the other one, but it goes something like this: “Stories are light in a world so dark. Come closer, reader. I am telling you a story. I need to reread that book.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Along that theme, Frederick, by Leo Leoni. The mouse gathers stories during the good times, to tell during the bad ones. It struck a chord the very first time I read it, and I kept borrowing it from the library, in print or the cassette tape.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. My wife and I found a couple of charities that we researched and felt were doing good we supported and were putting the money to actual use and not “costs”. Upon retirement we reviewed again our giving and bumped up the amount a little bit but keep it monthly. After she passed it is still an obligation to support what we believe in so the contributions continue. It was/is a small thing but we always hoped the few dollars were a help for someone. It also seems to be an important Christian thing which is good too.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Heb 13:1-3 KJV 1 Let brotherly love continue. 2 Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. 3 Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Amen.

    Book plug for When Helping Hurts. Christian focused, but some useful things to consider when looking at charity. Largely about not denying or replacing agency in the people you try to help. Be humble.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Does the “weaponized umbrella” resemble Amelia Peabody’s specially reinforced parasols? (From Crocodile on the Sandbank et seq., Elizabeth Peters) One of them concealed a sword, if I remember correctly…

    Like

    1. It was likely inspired by that fad. Heck, I am inspired by that fad, and I can’t stand packing an umbrella around.

      (The thing of packing around weapons-grade umbrellas was a for-real thing, one of the “woman beat man to death with her umbrella” news stories mentioned it. She’d jabbed him, instead of the usual smack-over-the-head, and got fortunate enough it was fatal.)

      Like

      1. One of my Victorian martial arts books describes benefits for women if they take serious fencing lessons (this is the 1880s-1890s). Lady was accosted. She rammed the tip of her umbrella between his ribs and managed to [based on news paper account of injuries and demise] cause severe enough internal bleeding [torn aorta?] that the perp up and died.

        You never know. Steel shaft, plus determination and a little skill, and the right mindset equals survival.

        Liked by 2 people

        1. I have in my current possession a hatpin – near to a foot long, and sharp … as it would need to be, in order to skewer a large hat to a huge turn-o-the-last-century-hairdo.

          There was a time when a lady, thus accoutered could do serious damage with a needle-sharp, sturdy steel hatpin … just saying.

          Such things were so dangerous to importunate men that there were localities which banned very large hatpins as deadly weapons.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Grandma solemnly gave 12 year old me a hat pin when I went to the city to High School. because I’d be riding the bus. “If a man tries to rub on you, stick him THERE.”
            … I did more than once. Only the stupid complained.

            Liked by 1 person

          3. Faith Hunter’s Jane Yellowrock’s elaborate hair pin stakes, er-um sticks, usually wood or silver. Could have been something Buffy could have used. Until Yellowrock Security became head of security, the body guards ignored the hair pins as dangerous weapons. FYI? Hair pin sticks are legal now; even on airplanes.

            Like

        2. A serviceable stabbed should be at least four inches long, or more, to reach vitals.

          I have seen umbrellas made of near-unbreakable composites, wirh a 4-6 inch rather pointy tip of steel or tungsten-carbide.

          Ouch.

          Paging Mister P N Guinn to the courtesy phone…

          Like

    2. I have a factory second from Unbreakable Umbrellas. It came with its own sheath, which I modified to hang off the strap of my pack (or a belt) like a sword.

      That’s pretty much the easiest way I’ve found to carry an umbrella all the time.

      Everyone who has mistaken it for a sword at first glance thought it was pretty cool.

      Like

    3. My mom had an umbrella made for me that was so ridiculously reinforced I couldn’t break it in ten years of hitting things. (okay,commies, okay? But they always started it.) It disappeared in our move to Colorado.
      Because mom had it made, it was brown, her secondary favorite color, and had the most ridiculous little frill around the edge. Also it had a bandoleer strap so I could wear it on my back. I had the “take it from the back and wield it like a club, handle (it was a weighted ball) out.)

      Liked by 1 person

  9. I figure that the only chance I might have of getting to heaven is to keep backing the wife’s act while she looks after as many waifs and strays as possible. She’s a walking, talking corporal act of mercy. All direct though, not through third party payments.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. When my mother’s dog finally passed (he outlived her by 3 years) he was on an allergy-free dry food and a bunch of moderately expensive meds. Took us some doing, but we were able to find a local shelter for all the food, cleaned bedding, and crates, and a vet who could use the rest of the meds for their cash-strapped patients. We didn’t have cash to donate, but both parties were glad to have what we could give.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I did the same thing with our last dog’s heart medication. The veterinarian couldn’t legally take it back (especially since I got it through Costco), but they could let me donate it to less financially stable patents.

      We’ve had cats on severe chronic renal failure. Never got to the point with chronic failure that any needed the infusion therapies. Their systems failed before then. Oldest was 22.

      Tj OTOH had critical total renal failure. We did have him treated at the veterinarians once a week until we got the news that he was going to have to have the treatments every day for as long as he lived (they would train us), or kidney transplant. We chose to let him go. Still hurts. Lost him too young.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. There’s a Dr. Toru Miyazaki who’s working on a way to restore natural kidney function in cats. (He also hopes it’ll work in humans.)

        Having lost two Abyssinians to that when they were barely 7, all I can say is, dude, may you have the best of luck pulling it off.

        Liked by 3 people

  12. If you don’t have money, you can give time– and that doesn’t have to mean “go do work for someone.”

    My daughters have decided they want to make the world better, so when they see something cool, they complement the person.

    Like

  14. I do try to make the world a little kinder where I can. I try to be patient and polite with those in retail and service positions, smile at strangers, and be generous when I can afford to be.

    I don’t have much money, but our family always has food. We get day-old bread for our chickens (and our ‘chickens’) from a local bakery which we redistribute at church, along with fresh garden vegetables in their seasons. I try to keep my charity generally local, and tend to spend more time than money, contributing to service projects or in other ways.

    And, y’know, karma comes around. My mom just had a series of strokes, and you wouldn’t believe the number of people who’ve called or come around to see how they can help, perhaps in part because we’ve tried our best to be good neighbors and good friends.

    It’s been a hard month, made easier by the kindness of friends and strangers.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Pingback: Instapundit » Blog Archive » JUST DO WHAT YOU CAN TO KEEP THE LIGHT BURNING:  Other People’s Children.

  16. https://redstate.com/smoosieq/2025/12/18/finally-a-break-officials-id-person-of-interest-in-brown-shooting-n2197274

    …and it is academics.

    Anyway, the age is not unheard of for a PhD student. Grad student is also a sufficient explanation for someone going insane.

    Anyway, overseas, EU, is at least a potential leftist. And the propaganda environment in academia and the EU is not great where US politics is concerned.

    Pretty similar odds, with just this information, of ordinary workplace evil insanity, ordinary evil insanity, and the sadly frequent this year political evil insanity.

    The meme would be ‘talk to your doctoral student friends, they are not well’, and could be a little correct.

    But, if you have a lot of doctoral student friends, many of them will not now be in obvious crisis. So it would be ordinary sorts of try to be decent to your friends and contacts.

    Like

  17. I’m in a particularly cynical place at the moment. When I saw someone asking for money the other day, I nearly yelled out the car window, “ask the Somalis for it.”

    I’ve paid a LOT in taxes over the years. A great deal of that is supposed to be “help”. Having three orders of magnitude more money than I will ever see stolen is the last straw. The non-profit scam (we make no profit because we spend all donations on salaries) was bad enough, but I’m just done, now.

    I know the counter-arguments. Right now, I just don’t care. I’m in a “humanity is a virus” mood. I don’t wish harm on anyone in particular or even humans in general, but I’m beyond caring what happens to everyone else.

    Apparently, there is a single occupant tree house somewhere in Norway with a 90-day challenge. It seems that people cannot last much beyond 40 days. 90 days of isolation (with my Kindle, of course) sounds like a dream to me. (As a practical matter, it’s small so I wonder where supplies come from.)

    Like

  18. If you are near a bigger city, there should be “Light the World Giving Kiosks”. It allows the giving of things like chickens, goats, beehives and so on to people in need so that they can do things for themselves.

    Besides giving to our church, monthly, which does a LOT of good things all over the world, as well as the USA, we also give to Stronghold Rescue, which provides health, medical and ambulance services in dangerous places. They send a newsletter monthly with things that they have done in the areas they operate. Found them from listening to Mr. Bolin’s YouTube Channel.

    Like

Comments are closed.