For those of you who remember the story about the lady with the liver disease, my friend, Minara...

Heroes and Helicopters

...then mid-afternoon, something terrible would happen to someone in the county. Away we would sweep like avenging angels, Jeff and I and whoever else was on hand. Sometimes something only partially bad would happen to someone in the county, but when Jeff arrived, he usually tried to convince them that it was worse than perceived.

The Poor With You Always

I want to enjoy my soft bed at night with a clear conscience, so I give and give. I make myself think of the poor woman sleeping on her hard floor. I punish myself with scenes of others' hardships, so that after a bit of realizing "how good I have it", I can roll over and fall peacefully into sleep. Without uneasy consciences, how would charities survive?

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