The tricky issue of charity

I'm blessed to have all that I need - more than, actually - so I make an effort to share some of my fortune with others. I won't go into detail about what I do here, apart from the one instance that has me puzzled, and a quite angry, to be honest.

There's a man called Dennis Mitchell who has been coming to our gate for probably about three years now. He's mute, illiterate, and I think has had brushes with gangs - judging by the tattoos on his fingers. He first rang our gate bell way back when, and gave me a letter to read, I can't even remember what the story was back then - but he's always armed with a letter, that I think is written by friends or acquaintances, because it's a different handwriting every time. When I've asked him questions, he's tried to write the answers, but struggles to form letters and words.

The stories have been many over the years - there have been two children (of ages that are constantly changing), there was a girlfriend that died of TB just before Christmas last year (please can we help with food and Christmas presents), the children have been sick (please help with medicine), the children have needed school uniforms for KEPS (please help with money for uniforms), then they needed school fees for a school far away because they were sent to live with their granny (please help with school fees), then it was a child's birthday (please help me make a little party)...

I've long stopped believing the stories, mainly after the KEPS story, when I really thought there was an opportunity to help two kids make their way out of what is clearly not a great situation. Maybe if I took on their school fees, he would have the resources to sort out the uniforms. I've helped kids with school fees before - and have learned that any money for this should be paid directly to the school - to make sure that it is actually used for that intention. KEPS took a couple of days to dig through their records, ask around, and check their registration - but there was no record of Dennis or of his children.

There was another instance where the letter told of the two sick children, begging for medication to help break their fever. I gave him a bottle of Lotem, warm clothes for the kids - a big bag of stuff, including food for him. We left home shortly after that, and I saw him chatting to a lady on the street corner... clearly trying to sell her the stuff I'd just given him.

So. My new rule became that I don't read the letters. I do however, always give him food when he rings our doorbell - usually a can or two, including something with meat in it - and whatever bread is in the bread bin. He's usually at our gate once a fortnight or so, sometimes every week.

Yesterday I was out, and Brett phoned - Dennis was at the gate, with a letter asking for money to help him buy formula for his nine month old twins.

At which point I lost my rag fairly significantly. I get that it's completely none of my business, but what the hell is this guy doing procreating AGAIN if he is in such dire financial and life straits that he is compelled to beg for food?  Actually, that's when it does become my business - because he's asking me to support them! And, here's the next judgmental opinion from me: if him being disabled is not a barrier to snagging himself a girlfriend and getting her pregnant with TWO children - why is it a barrier to him finding work?

Or are the twins yet another fabrication?

I guess I'm also quite jaded about this - there are just so many people at every turn, standing with a hand out, asking for help. There are the ones that clearly do need every bit of help they can get - there's a guy who begs on Glenhove in Melrose who literally has nothing below the hips. I have no idea how his body mechanics work, but he sits (can you call it that?) on the road at the traffic light. Him, I will, and have, given money to, and food.

But there are the guys near Montecasino, and others, who contort themselves into all sorts of caricatures of disability to gain sympathy - and then walk up straight as soon as the robots change. There's the young woman in Norwood last night, who looks completely able to be a receptionist, a waitress, an admin clerk, even a cleaning lady - but there she was standing begging for money.

I work hard for my money, as does my husband. We do it honestly, and with a focus on creating good environments for other people to work. We help where we can, with what we can, to make our little corner of the world a better place.

But it makes me so angry when people lie to play on our sympathies to weasel money out of us - when if they were prepared to work just a little bit, they could sort themselves out.

I know this is an emotive issue, and there are all sorts of reasons that people beg,that so many people just do have perpetual bad luck,  and that if everyone helped someone else, the world (and more specifically this country) would be a better place.

However, I'm so tired of so many people looking to me to fund their lives, and lying to me when they do so.