Let us honor generosity

By LES PAYNE

“Some of you will earn a lot of money,” the commencement speaker told University of Connecticut graduates a few years ago.

“What’s wrong with that?” said a parent sitting next to a friend way beyond earshot in the third tier of Gampel Pavilion.

“This is OK,” the speaker continued from his prepared text. “It is not OK, however, to make earning a lot of money your primary goal in life.”

With unbridled money-making as the root cause of the current economic meltdown, that warning against greed emerges as key advice to that ’03 UConn class. Those born with little have an easier time, I suspect, fixing their mind not so much on harvesting money for its own sake, but on structuring a career in a field that will improve conditions and benefit others.

This holiday season focuses attention upon giving to others. It is beyond irony that the wealthiest among us — the titans of banking, commerce and auto — come begging for alms from the rest of us. It is especially galling given that these panhandling billionaires of the hedge-fund era have built very little of genuine value for the public.

Where is this era’s equivalent of the beneficent tycoons who build railroads, cathedrals, sprawling public parks, new industry, and gothic museums for the masses? Instead, what we taxpayers get from these rulers of the universe — and at our expense — are gas-guzzling assault vehicles from Detroit; deprecating films from Hollywood; Ponzi schemes from Wall Street; and corporate sports stadiums built to worship at the altar of million-dollar skyboxes.

Time for magic

But this is the Christmas season, hard as it is to summon the spirit. It is a time for magic, humility and of personal memory.

Just before she died, I asked my mother about a seasonal myth I’d convinced myself I’d never accepted: “Did you believe in Santa Claus?”

“Oh yes,” mother said, “we believed it. We went to bed at 6 o’clock and stayed awake just about all night, afraid. Mom and Pop put up stockings and filled them with fruit and candy and peanuts. They couldn’t afford toys. I don’t remember ever getting dolls.”

Both of her grandparents, who had been Alabama slaves, celebrated Christmas with the family in Hale County. Hers was the first generation to give their children toys. I remembered the cap pistols and tricycles Christmas morning, but sought confirmation that I’d never accepted the Santa-down-the-chimney myth.

“Oh yes, Les,” she said with that tone of finality, “you believed in Santa Claus.”

Merry Christmas.

X Les Payne is a columnist for Newsday. Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services.