Observation of homeless female panhandling at 11 a.m. It’s about 92 degrees out here. I am sitting in my truck with the air on, trying to figure out how she can bear this heat without shelter, umbrella, or water. The sun is beaming down on her frail skin. It’s been one hour and she has not received one dime. So, I offer money for an interview and she gladly accepts. She is battling several debilitating issues: alcoholism, drug addiction, and homelessness. The question comes to mind, and I ask, “Aren’t there organizations out here to help you?” Her reply is, “I don’t need them. They can’t help me no way.” Upon returning to my truck, I am thinking it is hot out here. However, I decided to observe for one more hour. Twenty minutes later a vehicle pulls up. A Hispanic-American female offers some change. Suddenly, the donations start rolling in. Altogether, in a two-hour span, I count eight African Americans’ hands, five of what appear to be Latinos’ hands, and no Caucasian-American donations, even though I witness many Caucasian Americans pass her by. Makes me wonder why her own race won’t offer her donations. Once my heart convinces me to give, I can’t concern myself with what she is going to with the funds.