For years, I’ve been getting Facebook messages from Nicaraguans and Ukrainians I knew as kids at the orphanage. I don’t respond because I know there’s a 99% chance they’ll ask for money. Part of me thinks I should contact them since they’ll likely only ask for 50 or 100 bucks, but another part says, how many times can you keep giving out 50-100? They’re adults, and they need to work now. The money I give them takes away from the children we work with now. Still, when I see pictures of them as a child on their Facebook page, I feel guilty in a way a father who neglects their adult child might feel. My parents were always there for me, well into my adult years. For so many years, as I traveled the world, I could always go “home” for a few days, and that meant something. They had no one when they were younger, and they have no one now. As usual, I have no solution, and I’ll die with many of these issues unresolved. Until then, you’ll have to deal with these cathartic emails.