Yesterday I went to the post office to get postcard stamps and there was a man sitting outside asking for money. “Here ya go.”

Then I went to buy Hanukkah presents for my family. At the Barnes and Noble checkout, the salesman asked me if I wanted to buy a book to donate to the “I Have a Dream” Foundation. Um yes, yes I do. This is what I’m avowed to do, give to people who need gifts, and I like books, and kids, so yes. Here you go.

I was starting to feel a bit out of control, like my intention was undirected and untethered, easily blown by any passing wind. And my goodness, in the world of rampant holiday consumerism, there are lots of winds-a-blowing, lots of ways to spend a dime.

But I believe that no love given is ever lost, and I’m hoping it’s the same with money. I decided I’d just give, and trust it would go to where it’s most needed.

Later in the day, my family and friends celebrated Hanukkah. It was a wonderful time, although I still wreak of latkes. And it turns out I do have some discernment — the gifts I gave were really appreciated and useful. And that felt really good.