Money Doesn't Change You
If there was anything my father loved more than football, it was his newspapers; to us, they were just convenient liners for kitchen shelves and drawers, but to him they represented a tangible and precious connection to the world. One Saturday, a fruit vendor was selling some juicy mangoes in our neighbourhood and we wanted a taste. Since my siblings and I didn’t have any money on us, we came up with the brilliant idea of selling some of our father’s old newspapers to satisfy our mango-craving. When our parents came home, we happily shared the mangoes with them. Curious, they asked us where these juicy fruits had come from, and we told them what we’d done; the joy and good spirits of that day quickly turned into tears. Even though they too had partaken and enjoyed the spoils of our ill-gotten gains, we were roundly scolded, and soundly beaten not only for the theft, but for our audacity to touch things that didn’t belong to us. Yes, dear reader, while charity begins at home, so d...