Money for Nothin'

As I walked into the grocery store late yesterday morning, I glanced toward the young man lazing about in the folding chair behind a table. Hanging from the front of that table, a sign: "Please Donate . . ." something, something. In the middle of that table, strategically placed right at the front, sat a tray that had a lid with a hole cut into it through which suckers could stuff their donations. The only other objects on the table were a batting helmet and, I think, some batting gloves, decorations only. That's right: no baked goods, no hot dogs, no crafts, no candy bars, no popcorn, no Krispy Kreme, no coupon booklets, no offers to wash, mow, or carry anything. The chubby teenager sitting behind the table leaned back into the chair and lazily petitioned people walking by, as he did to me when I walked by on the way back to the car: "Would you like to donate to our all-star team?" I ignored him. Apparently, they were trying to raise money for a trip. This is the world we live in, a world where children feel entitled to whatever they want. But it is more than that. Children who are encouraged to beg (panhandle) because they deserve it for all the "hard work" they have already done will never learn responsibility and will never learn how to fail, even the importance of it; neither will they learn how to earn it. These are the same children that expect grades they did not earn in the classroom because mommy and daddy have always talked about how smart they are, or they had that one teacher who couldn't sing their praises enough, so, surely, any effort they put out is more than adequate for the maximum return. It makes me sick to think about it. It enrages me so much as I write this that I don't even know what to say, how to address it. I will say this, though, shame on those parents, and shame on that store manager who thought it was such a great idea to allow panhandlers to bother his or her customers.