I often buy food for myself at the dollar store. You see lots of regular brands there, plus some unusual European stuff like cookies and crackers. IOW I don’t think the groceries at the dollar store are any worse, poorer quality, or junkier than what you find at the regular supermarket.
Having said that, here’s the thing. You know… I’ve worked for non-profits for over 30 years raising money. Agencies are great, and I’ve worked for at least three in the past 20 years whose mission was working with the homeless, providing emergency food and shelter, etcblahblahblah.
AND if you want to give money or food to a homeless person, then, for Pete’s sake, follow your heart and do it. Agencies and churches do great work and they are totally necessary and indispensable. But if YOU are personally moved to hand cash or a McDonald’s certificate or a loaf of bread to a homeless person who is standing right in front of you, then don’t overthink: just do it.
I often give money to panhandlers, having gone through some VERY tough financial times myself, and I don’t care what anybody says, trying to get strangers to give you money is a dismal way to spend the day and no one does it by choice. It’s not my job to vet the people asking me for money. I react from my gut and if my gut says, “Hand this guy five or twenty bucks,” I do it. I don’t care what s/he does with the money. That’s not my problem. This practice will NOT likely catch on among the middle or upper classes or start a massive tidal wave of entitlement that causes the so-called “working poor” to quit their jobs and take to the streetcorners with cardboard signs and fake casts on their legs.
I do it because I’m financially okay now and I remember when I wasn’t. I also give (proportionately) a lot to regular charities and agencies, too. But it’s not up to me to tell a homeless person how THEY should be dealing with the stress and misery of wondering where their next meal is coming from. If I can ease that worry for an hour, I do it.
When I hand money to a panhandler, I almost always say, “May I ask you for something?” And when they say, “What?” I say, “Will you pray for me?” At that point the person makes eye contact with me and asks me my name, which I tell them. Every one of them says they will absolutely pray for me. No one has EVER turned down this request. I feel that making this request puts us on more of an equal footing instead of me reaching down from on high like Lady Bountiful. And God knows, I can use all the prayers I can get.
One time, a tall, regal black man dressed in the shabbiest imaginable clothes stopped right then and there on the sidewalk, put his hand on my shoulder, raised his face to heaven, and invoked blessings on me so sincerely, eloquently, and passionately (and for several minutes) that the memory of it, even now, years later, brings tears to my eyes.
Friends, that could be any one of us on that street corner. Follow your heart. Give food if you want to.