I feel readily inclined to write these lines in memory of my sister whose generosity should never be forgotten. She was the youngest in the family, a robust, healthy and active individual. who was blessed with money and assets she had accumulated after the death of her husband.  As a cheerful and optimistic widow, she took care, not only of her two boys, a dog and a cat, but also her siblings, myself included.  She was overly charitable, positive in many respects, and particularly concerned about the homeless poor whom she felt were deserving of recognition and help.

I used to drive her around without any strings attached to my brotherly spontaneity, but her sense of magnanimity would have none of that, as she would insist on compensating me monetarily and with gratitude.

She was so kind that each time she would see a homeless person, she would instantly reach for her purse, hoping that the red signals at intersections wouldn’t change to green so that there would be time enough for her to extend a helping hand to the person, asking for nothing more than a little change.

Unlike the majority of people that might spare no more than a quarter, if they so choose to do so,  my sister truly believed that, in these hard times, nothing short of a dollar should be spared . The three words, “God bless you,” sounded like music to her ears.  “Isn’t that nice?” she would tell me. “I’m blessed.”   Indeed, she was, not only by that homeless person that she helped, but by the Power that had allowed her to give willingly. 

On one occasion, I saw her writing a number of checks to institutions, such as those of the Veterans, Easter Seal, Champions of Animal Rights, etc., for which she maintained a specific file.

I am sure she is now in heaven.  I am also sure that those same homeless individuals, standing and waiting for my car to stop, miss her kindness, her tender smile and her words of welcome as the red signal would quickly turn green.