The Handshake Or The Handout

— body language by Weddie Thiên  —​

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Oh, listen up close, there is something to see!

Two ways that a thing goes from thee over to me.

The first is a swap, and it works out just fine:

You take what was mine, and I take what was thine.

And why do you do it? Because you can tell

You're better off after, and I am as well.

Two people, two winners, and both of us gain,

And nothing is lost, and there's nothing that drains.

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The second's a gift, and you hand it away,

And nobody owes you, and no one will pay,

Except for a thank you, a nod, a warm glow,

A name on a plaque and a halo to show.

Now gifts have a place, and I'll not say they don't,

But look at your basket, will it fill? No, it won't!

For every last giving takes out of your stores,

And nothing flows back to be given once more.
 

So honor the swap, give the handshake its due,

The bargain in which there's a winner times two!

For nothing is lost and there's nothing to mend,

When each of us walks away richer, my friend.

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Trading can go on and go on and go on,

Repeating tomorrow when this one is gone,

Because it makes richer each one who takes part,

It runs like a river, it beats like a heart.

But charity's well has a bottom, it's true,

It drops a bit lower each time it flows through.

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And trade has a rival, and isn't that fine?
For somebody's hunting a cleverer line.
He's testing, he's trying, he's finding a way
To hand you tomorrow more worth for your pay.
And whatever he finds lands right there in your hand,
The cheaper, the finer, all over the land.

So each of you learns and each one of you grows,
And that is the reason abundance still flows.

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And what if you're beaten? It stings, that is so,
But then you have learned where your talent should go.
Your hours, your building, your hands and your head
Move over to something folks wanted instead.
And you, who were beaten, still shop with the rest,
And buy, as a buyer, the cheapest and best.

 

But charity's contest is only for cash,
For donors, for pledges, for splash after splash.
No rival is standing to say, "I'll do more,
And do it for less!" at the charity's door.
So why would it hurry? Who's nipping its heel?
Who's driving it onward to sweeten the deal?

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So honor the swap, give the handshake its due,

The bargain in which there's a winner times two!

For nothing is lost and there's nothing to mend,

When each of us walks away richer, my friend.

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Now think how you stand when you're paid for your work:

"What I have to offer is worth it! No quirk,

No pity, no favor, no pat on the head,

They wanted my labor and paid me instead!"

That's holding your ground, that is standing up tall,

That's knowing your worth, and you owe them no thrall.

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And giving can lift up the giver, that's plain:

"How grand and how ample! How mighty my reign!"

But over the table, the one who receives

May quietly ponder the thing he believes:

"I needed it, surely, I use it, it's true,

But I never earned it, it came out of you.

And why would I labor and stretch and contrive,

When holding my hand out is how I arrive?

The trading takes sweat, and the asking takes none,

So which of the two do you think will get done?"

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So honor the swap, give the handshake its due,

The bargain in which there's a winner times two!

For nothing is lost and there's nothing to mend,

When each of us walks away richer, my friend.

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Then why, in the movies, whenever they're shown,

Is the money-made fellow the villain alone?

The banker, the merchant, the boss with the tie,

The one with the ledger, the one who will buy?

The artists and professors will sniff and will scoff

At all the big earners, and wave them all off.

They'll crown the almsgiver, they'll polish his name,

And leave those great traders to carry the shame.

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In China a billion were hungry for bread,

And more than twenty million starved and were dead.

No basket, no bowl, and no charity drive

Could feed them, could clothe them, could keep them alive.

Then Deng Xiaoping, who was head of the land,

Let markets grow free, and let trading expand.

The Chinese could buy and the Chinese could sell,

And out of that trading their poverty fell.

Not thousands, not millions, a billion or more

Climbed out of the want they had carried before.

No almsgiving did it, no gift and no dole,

It was trading, plain trading, that carried them whole.

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So keep your kind gifts, they have got their good place,

For sorrow and shipwreck and hardship and grace.

But when there's a swap to be had, take the swap!

When someone can pay you, then let the gift drop.

Two people, two winners, no debt and no drain,

And each of you walking off richer, so plain!

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So honor the swap, give the handshake its due,

The bargain in which there's a winner times two!

For nothing is lost and there's nothing to mend,

When each of us walks away richer, my friend.