“Respect for others — no matter rich or poor — is a matter of cultivation.”
The lesson at the intersection
After dinner, my father took me to the park. As we passed an intersection, we saw a middle-aged man in tattered clothes sitting by the roadside, playing the erhu. The music he produced was rather poor. There was an old bowl with a few scattered coins inside — apparently, a few people had given him money.
Father stopped, listened for a moment, then said to me: “We heard his music. Shouldn’t we give him some money? Take it over.” I took a coin, walked up, and tossed it into the old bowl. The coin flipped a few times before settling quietly inside. The man hurriedly said to me: “Thank you.” I felt as if I’d been praised by a teacher, my heart brimming with joy. I imagined many people behind me casting approving glances, and hurried back to my father, waiting for his praise.
But to my surprise, my father didn’t acknowledge my kindness. Instead, he looked thoughtful and asked: “Son, how did you give him the money?” I answered: “I tossed it into his bowl. It made a crisp sound, and that ‘beggar’ even smiled and said thank you.” Father said: “Tossing it is disrespectful. You shouldn’t toss it.”
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