'If You Have No Penny, A Ha' Penny Will Do'

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Title page of the first edition of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Raise your hand if you think A Christmas Carol is terrifying.
 
Me too.
 
I saw Robert Zemeckis' new animated film last week, and I'd forgotten what a harrowing tale Charles Dickens weaves.
 
It struck me that as I mature—as I become comfortable in the working world, earn more, learn to enjoy the privileges of my salary, eat more, and as I walk past my share of beggars on the street—Dickens' message becomes more and more relevant.
 
When the Ghost of Christmas Present pulled back his robes to reveal the snarling animal-like twins--the boy, Ignorance, and the girl, Want--I was nailed to my seat with recognition.
 
Child poverty is more obvious in Asia than in most places in the United States. Children in the Philippines beg at taxicab windows, some carrying babies á la "Slumdog Millionaire."
 
Often, when I give to these kids, I am told that, at worst, I am funding a mafia that exploits them, and at best, I am encouraging them to play in traffic, which is especially dangerous in Manila.
 
My argument was that they're just kids, and I want them to feel…good. But of course I know this type of giving is not, in itself, a solution.
 
To Tithe or Not to Tithe
 
Tithing is a practice with religious origins (like Christmas) in which people give 10 percent of their income to their church.
 
For a while, in my spirited youth as a post-Catholic lefty, I resented the Catholic Church for taking this money from its faithful, most of whom are poor, so the Pope could have the hugest, most beautiful cathedral ever, and could remove the phalluses from our greatest works of art.
 
But for many others, more patient and progressed than I, tithing has come to mean yearly charitable giving.
 
A good start. But as a graduate student, I got used to living off Ramen noodles and nursing my one-beer-a-week so it lasts a whole night. I've always felt too broke for this kind of giving.
 
And yet, when in the film, Scrooge settled down on Christmas Eve with his pot of disgusting-looking porridge, I saw myself.
 
After seeing the movie, I thought I should tithe this year. Because I can this year, I thought. But then I calculated 10 percent of my income.
 
Woah.
 
I worry that graduate-student-stinginess has sunk in. No matter what I earn, 10 percent will seem like a lot.
 
Inward Riches
 
Marketplace (I'm admitting now it is one of my favorite podcasts) did a story in 2007 about whether tithing brings good karma. Some quoted in the story are living proof it may. Others are just happy with the "inward riches" they receive from giving.
 
Of course, there are lots of ways to give back. Through their "Twice the Manure" program, Oxfam America excels at helping people give to the poor, while giving friends and loved ones a warm feeling. (The pun was unavoidable).
 
It doesn't have to be money either.  We can give our time or our talents.
 
In fact, perhaps A Christmas Carol is the epitome of charity. Internet rumor has it that Dickens' novella was expensively published (out of his own pocket) and modestly priced. A bad business decision? Or a Christmas present for the world? Either way, it became a bestseller that even today spawns almost yearly adaptations in every media.
 
And how many wallets has Dickens tale pried opened with his Christmas ghost story for this last century and a half?
 
I think I might try it. The tithe, I mean. (The timeless, uplifting, world-changing novella will have to be another year). This year, 10 percent of my income means not paying off my (admittedly manageable) credit card debt as fast as I would like to. And not saving as much for my wedding in eight months.
 
But I can think of a number of children for whom 10 percent of my income will mean even more.
 
Read more stories at YPNation, America's young professionals network.