When I was a little girl, my mom sat me down and shared one of the most impactful tidbits of knowledge with me.

“If your father or I cannot provide, don’t ask for it.”

In my tiny brain, I wondered why my mom had ever shared this information with me. I was a contented child who didn’t want more than was given. I took what was offered and never once demanded what I hadn’t been given by those in my life who cared and loved me.

In primary school, I rarely begged my friends for some of their snacks, although some begged for mine. Still, I kept this tidbit close, protecting it and taking it with me through life. Somehow this small sentence wrapped itself around me, protecting me from danger without alerting me to its presence.

Over time, the statement changed.

“If your grandmother, your father or I cannot provide it then don’t ask for it!”

Obediently, I silently nodded.

As my parents worked long hours, I spent most of my childhood with my grandmother. This was the opportunity for her to make up for all the time she had missed with my own mother since her hours as a nurse meant that she had missed most of her daughter’s childhood moments.

Even away from my parents, I held the core belief that to be happy was to be content. I made concessions for my love of books, which my family members showered me with. There was no shopping trip, no thrift sale, or any event where I wouldn’t return with a pile of books which I quickly devoured with gusto. I took pride in my collection, hiding myself away from the world as I poured my entire energy into reading L.M Montgomery’s  Anne of Green Gables series.

As I entered secondary school, I soon discovered that life was a little more complex. Older students begged younger ones for money, girls begged boyfriends for gifts, phone credit or even money for fast food. And here I was, the “Queen of Non-Beg”.

The advice rung in my ears letting me know no beg would come free. And as we say here in Barbados, cat luck aint dog luck (what one might get away with, another may not/ two individuals doing the same thing may have different consequences).

Years ago, while still a student at my local community college, my computer crashed during finals week. I would have to buy a new laptop at a record speed so I could make my final presentations for school. It was quickly decided that I would need to get a sturdy computer which would last for a while. Eventually, my mother and grandmother decided that a new Macbook was the way to go. To the horror of my mother, I bawled my eyes out in the packed store drawing a crowd among us, causing a chorus of chuckles and amused patrons to watch and stare at the whole debacle.

Over the years, I’ve seen the dark side of begging. Former friends who have turned begging into an art-form, allowing men to use and abuse their body for the sake of receiving some sort of benefit. By association, I was eventually lumped into that category  and with no record of such behavior, I decided to sever these friendships.

Even though my story thus far has been pretty temporal in nature, begging exists within church spaces as well, with more clever and undercover motivations.

While few seem to beg for financial backing for missions, there is often a secondary motivation for some to go so they can find sponsors who will then pay for their overseas education.

During my recent college graduation trip, a friend of mine tried to convince me to have the sponsorship conversation with a couple who would be meeting up with me. I adamantly refused, seeing the friendship more than any financial outcome. Repeatedly this friend tried to convince me that my friendships could possibly become transactional if I just begged a little more.

Would I be further ahead in life if I begged a little more? Certainly.

Do I wish I begged more? Absolutely not…

I enjoy my online learning and the beauty of flexible learning. Sure, I would’ve been married with 2.5 children if I had weaseled my way into a school sponsorship. However, doing so would’ve been catastrophic to my conscience and many sleepless nights would be ensured as my grandmother would’ve probably haunted me from the grave.

There is greater pleasure in recognizing that any life achievement has come from what I have earned through sweat, tears, breakdowns and any stress associated with it. I still hold firm to that promise that I should be content above all things. I find it difficult to want more than what life dishes out or what has been received in good faith.

So, while I may still cry each time my mom buys me a present I didn’t expect or I bawl my eyes out if someone gets me something I needed for school, I remember that this token comes from a place of love and not from a place where I should feel obligated to be indebted to someone else. Because in my eyes, nowhere in the scriptures does it say that to beg is to be blessed.