Today I shudder to see more and more photographs and pictures of donations and acts of giving. “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing!’ say the holy scriptures. But do we listen? All I see are photos of acts of giving, circulated to everybody through WhatsApp, email or Facebook!

“Look what I’ve done!” shout the pictures shamelessly. 

The scriptures say, ‘So when you give to the needy, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honoured by men. Truly I tell you, they already have their full reward.’

Which means in the publicity you’ve given yourself you’ve received ample reward, and nothing more awaits you when you pass on.

But there are many who give very quietly, and whose names are never known; who give out of love:

Here’s a story:

A happy new mother was shocked to see her baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby’s hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred.

One day he rushed home from school and flung himself into his mother’s arms, “A boy, a big boy … called me a freak.”

The boy’s father had a session with the family doctor. “Can nothing be done?” he pleaded.

“I believe I can graft on a pair of outer ears, if they can be procured,” the doctor said.

The search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice. Two years went by. Then one day they found someone, “But it’s a secret,” said the father.

The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. “But I must know!” He urged his father, “Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.”

“I do not believe you could, “said the father, “but the agreement was that you are not to know, not yet.”

The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come … one of the darkest days that a son must endure. He stood with his father over his mother’s coffin. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that the mother had no outer ears.

“Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut,” he whispered gently, “and nobody ever thought Mother less beautiful, did they?” Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen; but that which cannot be seen.

Real giving lies not in what is done and known, but in what is done but not known!

Real giving is when ‘your right hand does not know what your left hand gives..!’

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