“More than twenty years ago, when I was a ‘green’ farm boy newly arrived in Boston to attend school, a ‘panhandler’ asked me for money for a meal.
Although the money I had was pitifully insufficient for my own needs, I gave him what was in my pocket.
A few hours later, the same man, by this time staggering drunk, stopped me again and asked for money.
I was so outraged to think the money I could so ill afford had been put to such use, I made myself a solemn pledge that I would never again listen to the plea of a street beggar.
Through the years I kept my pledge, but every time I refused anyone, my conscience needled me.
I felt guilty even to the point of developing a sharp pain in my stomach, but I couldn’t bring myself to unbend.
“The early part of this year, a man stopped me as I was walking my dog and asked for money so he could eat.
True to the old pledge, I refused him. His manner was gracious as he accepted my refusal. He even admired my dog and spoke of a family in New York State he knew that raised cockerspaniels.
This time my conscience was really pricking me! As he went on his way, I determined to remake that scene as I wished it had been, so I stopped right there on the street, closed my eyes for only a few moments and enacted the scene differently.
In my imagination, I had the same man approach me, only this time he opened the conversation by admiring my dog.
After we had talked a moment, I had him say, ‘I don’t like to ask you this, but I really need something to eat. I have a job that begins tomorrow morning, but I’ve been out of work and tonight I’m hungry.’
I then reached into my imaginary pocket, pulled out an imaginary five-dollar bill, and gladly gave it to him.
This imaginal act immediately dissolved the guilty feeling and the pain.
“I know from your teaching that an imaginal act is fact, so I knew I could grant anyone what he asked and by faith in the imaginal act, consent to the reality of his having it.
“Four months later, as I was again walking my dog, the same man approached me and opened the conversation by admiring my dog.
‘Here’s a beautiful dog,’ he said. ‘Young man, I don’t suppose you remember me, but a while back I asked you for some money and you very kindly said “no”.
I say “kindly”, because if you had given it to me I would still be asking for money. Instead, I got a job that very next morning, and now I’m on my feet and have some self-respect again’.
“I knew his job was a fact when I imagined it that night some four months before, but I won’t deny there was immense satisfaction in having him appear in the flesh to confirm it!”
—F.B.
Story from the book The Law And The Promise
