When That Day Comes
19 Oct
Two years ago, Leah was studying to be a teacher. And she was my friend. But she often questioned – to my face – why she liked me.
For months, she couldn’t put a finger on where that feeling came from. I talked like a monk. I lived in a small apartment with relatively few material possessions. And I was beginning to build a company whose vision was to make people’s lives better.
She figured it out during a local breast cancer drive. When she came to my apartment and asked me to donate ten dollars to her charity. And I said no. Because I didn’t have much money. And because I wanted to put every dollar I used toward my vision.
She said that my decision was selfish. That in the Jewish tradition (she grew up in a conservative Jewish household), people give 10% of their income to charity except in dire circumstances. Because God says so. Because we don’t know how the world works. And because we can help in so many ways.
I told her that I had more faith in myself than in charities. That if I gave ten dollars to her, I wouldn’t know whether it was spent on cake, inflated doctor salaries, or real research.
But if I kept the ten dollars I would be sure that it would help grow a business that could potentially make millions of people’s lives better. Without wasting money on cake or inflated salaries.
She seethed. And asked me where my ego ended and the rest of the world began. “After you make a million dollars? Ten million? A billion? Tell me honestly… will you give ten dollars when you have a billion in the bank?”
“It’s not about the amount of money that I have. It’s about who I have faith in – I trust a small group of people who I know are capable. That’s where I will always want to put my money – whether in trying to build a thriving business or a sustainable world.”
She walked toward the door. “Some day you’ll realize that our world doesn’t depend on you or revolve around you. But that it instead depends on everyone and everything… and revolves around the sun. And when that happens you’ll be a much better person. And happier. And you’ll probably do greater things.”
I smiled.
“Call me when that day comes,” she said. And she left.
I called her last night. Not because that day has come. But because I want it to come. And because it’s been two years. And I wanted to hear her voice again. Sadly, she changed her number.