In May we took a holiday in Anglesey. North Wales is beautiful and rich in history and magnificent beaches and our cottage was superb. Its only drawback was the double bed which made me realise why Wales has produced so many fine snooker players. I’m sure the mattress was made of Welsh slate and that it was missing only the six pockets around the edge.
As we toured Anglesey we visited the spot where St, Patrick was washed ashore, and heard of how the island was once the arable bread basket of Wales although it is sheep and dairy that now dominates the landscape. Some of the old towns look jaded and Holyhead in particular had few buildings of architectural merit. Its entrepreneurial local shopkeepers have long since been replaced by names such as Oxfam.
Seaside resorts in North Wales were built by the Victorians who also used to name daughters after virtuous ideas drawn from the bible, and so it was not unusual to see Faith, Hope and Charity gaily tripping through the town. We still see Charity on the high street, but nowadays it is more likely she is a shop not a person.
We have all heard the saying that, “charity begins at home,” and I recall many a vicar telling us that it ought not to stop there. In fact, British people are extraordinarily generous with their money and time and, as a result, are now exposed to continual appeals and pleas for donations. So pervasive are the marketing programmes of high street charities that it now feels as if there is no place to hide from them.
Readers may remember my account of a meeting with a Muslim holy man fresh from the desert and of my regret that, on that occasion, I did not give him alms. However, I do now wonder if the whole charity business has gone too far! Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think we should be less charitable, only that much of our existing charity may be misdirected and that the home base of charity should not be forgotten in the rush to take it abroad.
Questions about the best way to be charitable have been rattling around my head for years, and I now find it useful to draw distinctions between individual local charities and the big organisations employing professional fund raisers and marketing executives.
At the local level, charity can range from a friendly pint and a chat at the Beauchamp’s Arms or the gift of home grown parsnips from Brand Green. It can also be a leg of lamb at Redmarley, or a visit to a sick neighbour at home in Oxenhall or in hospital. Much of local charity is on a small scale and works well.
However, things are different with the global charities. Quite often their interventions are on such a scale that they destroy the local infrastructure that may be trying to cope with the problem, and nowhere is this more obvious than when quantities of food are handed out which then unwittingly destroys the small markets at which local farmers sell their produce. This means that the farmer, instead of being part of the solution, then becomes part of the problem.
Happily, after years of following the same operational model of assistance, there are signs that global charities are becoming aware of their shortcomings and of the unintentional harm they do to the aid-dependent nations. One wishes however, that they could also recognise shortcomings in respect of the harm they do on UK high streets. However, such is the nature of their business that they continue to seek funds by highlighting only their successes.
One of the ways they raise money is through their high street outlets, and although many raise only around 10-15% of their income from shops, their brand names now dominate many a high street including Holyhead.
Charity shops do not generally pay full local authority rates and are largely staffed by volunteers; as a result they have lower costs than adjoining shops. Furthermore, because they are huge organisations they can give landlords long lease guarantees and top rate rents. These factors add to the difficulties faced by local young people who hope to start a business.
I started this piece by saying that the Victorians used to see the sisters Faith, Hope and Charity strolling around. I am happy to say that these virtues can still be found on our high streets, and this is because there are still local folk who hope to start a business and have the faith to try. Maybe readers can help them by having a touch less branded charity but a bit more local faith and hope.
Talking of how charity can sometimes lead to curious outcomes, reminds me of the Dymock reader whose north country mother once made shiny Christmas decorations for a local charity. In those days tea came in plywood chests lined with tin foil and so she called in at her local Coop. She was given the foil after being told that it was no use to them and was going to be thrown away. However she stubbornly refused to take it as a gift and insisted on paying because, as she said, “I need the divi.”
View from the Pew 