What Would I Do?

I know nothing about Candy Spelling, only what I read in the article announcing her purchase of a 16,000 square feet, $47-million condo in Century City, thereby setting a record for $2848 a square foot. She may be a very generous person, may have contributed to a number of worthwhile causes, may be quite philanthropic. My comments are not directed at her as a person, only using what she represents to me. She is currently living in Los Angeles’ county largest house, a 123 room, 56,000 square feet mansion on six acres–one might argue someone has to own the largest house. But 123 rooms etc. is reminiscent of those palaces and lifestyle that preceded–or is it caused–the French and Russian revolutions. That kind of wealth is not only a historical occurrence, but a global one as well, making one think of sultanates and sheikdoms where opulence is common. Still, historical and global references aside, there is something very telling about the symbol of such a large house in a city which has a growing homeless population, where the differences between rich and poor can ( as they are in many U.S. cities) be a matter of just a few blocks, and often not even that, for I deduce with such a mansion Ms Spelling must employ many. Some of her own employees no doubt have problems coping with rising rent, fuel, food and other costs.
What strikes me most about this, is not the proverbial difference between the haves and have nots, but what would I do were I to be in her shoes? Would I share my wealth, and if so how? How would I justify to myself my having so much when so many have not enough, or nothing at all? Would I entertain such thoughts, or would I be smug and assume that because I give to charities, I am entitled to the rest? Would I feel guilty for living in opulence knowing millions are homeless? Would I be willing to go and see for myself how those who have so little fare? How would I react? Would I have the wisdom and the love to share, to satisfy myself with a fraction of what I would have and try to make a difference with the rest?
Of course I’ll never know for I won’t ever be the recipient of that kind of wealth. I can only hope I would have the courage of my convictions and practice sharing, since sharing in this way has to be a deep form of love.