The Entitled
My Recent Encounter with Ungratefulness
What’s the importance of gratitude, humility, and the spirit of generosity in our everyday lives?
The other day, I was waiting in line to buy lunch for my son and I. The restaurant we were at was the sort that made its food with a ladle the size of a shovel. You could order a small meal, and it would be enough to feed a small cavalry.
As we waited, a man approached us. He looked to be in his early 20s, well-dressed, and didn't seem to have any visible disabilities. In a subdued voice that contrasted sharply with his fresh attire, he asked if anyone could spare some money for lunch.
Now, I'm not made of money. I'm a single mom, trying to make ends meet and raising a kid who eats like he's preparing for a long winter hibernation. But something about this man's request tugged at my heartstrings. I thought, "If I were in his shoes, I'd want someone to help me." So, I offered to assist.
I handed him enough money to buy the smaller meal, which, let me remind you, could feed a small cavalry. But as soon as the money touched his hand, his demeanor changed. "This can't buy anything," he scoffed, looking at the money as though I'd just handed him a pile of Monopoly bills.
I pointed at the board, indicating the price of a small meal. "But I wanted a big one," he whined, sounding suddenly like a toddler denied his favorite toy.
I stared at him, astonished. Here I was, buying one meal to share between my son and I, and here he was, complaining about the size of the meal he could now afford thanks to my help.
The lady in front of me, who had previously ignored his plea, shot me a look that said, "See, that’s why I didn’t help." I could’ve given him just the tip, making him beg others to make up the amount needed to buy his meal. But I didn’t. I gave him the full amount because I thought he was hungry, and I wanted him to eat. I didn’t want him to have to continue begging.
His lack of gratitude wasn't just distasteful; it was downright nauseating. He behaved as though the world owed him a three-course meal on a silver platter.
Even so, I don’t regret helping him. As a single mom, I’ve been on the receiving end of kindness more times than I can count, and I believe in paying it forward when I can. But his attitude left a bitter taste in my mouth.
You see, life isn’t an all-you-can-eat buffet where you can just pile your plate high without any regard for others. It requires hard work, gratitude, and a willingness to be satisfied with what you have. It’s not about feeling entitled to the biggest piece of the pie, but about being thankful for the slice you’ve got.
After his display of ungratefulness, the young man disappeared into the crowd, perhaps to find someone else who might satisfy his inflated expectations. As I watched him go, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Not for the money I'd given – I was happy to help – but for the missed opportunity to teach my son a positive lesson about kindness and gratitude.
Instead, the day served as a stark reminder that not everyone appreciates generosity in the way we might expect. It was a lesson in humility, a lesson in gratitude, and a lesson in the reality of the world we live in.
But perhaps the most important lesson of all, and the one I hope my son took away from the encounter, is that we should never let the actions of others dictate our own. Just because one person chooses to be ungrateful, it doesn't mean we should stop extending our hand to those in need. After all, it's not about them and their reaction – it's about us and our willingness to help.
As we finally reached the front of the line and ordered our hearty, one-size-feeds-all meal, my son looked up at me with his big, bright eyes. "Mom," he said, "I'm glad we tried to help that man, even if he was mean about it. It's good to help, right?"
"Yes, sweetheart," I replied, heart swelling with pride. "It's always good to help."
So, to all the individuals out there, juggling life’s challenges and still finding the time to teach our little ones about kindness and gratitude, I salute you. And to the entitled lunch line charlatans: remember, life is a lot like the served lunch. You get what you’re given, and it’s up to you to make the most of it.
In the end, we’re all in this together, one meal at a time. Let’s remember to be grateful for the small portions we’re given and always, always be willing to share. After all, it’s not the size of the meal, but the love with which it’s given that truly fills us up.
