Why do beggars cheer for you when you pass through downtown?

I was biking home from a bookstore one evening, it was overcast and snowing heavily and inches of flakes would pile up on my shoulder and head just waiting for the traffic lights to change as I waited on the sidewalk. Barely anyone was out on the street. As I passed the corner Pancheros I noticed a small freezing man dressed in rags, huddled beneath the overhang holding a faded cardboard sign begging for help. While normally I wouldn't donate since often the panhandlers downtown merely seek to fuel their respective substance abuse addictions, it seemed clear just by looking at this guy that he was close to hypothermia. I gave him everything I had on me, I think it was only $37, telling him to go get some food and pointing him into the restaurant. The next Summer I was winding my way through the shops and a man ran up behind me. "Hey! Your that guy who gave me food during that big storm! Thanks for the meal man!", "Sure, no problem..." I said, not really stopping. I thought that this was the end of it, but it turns out that this guy was like The Beggar King of Iowa City. Everyone in the panhandling network had been alerted to the story, and they weren't looking for more money from me, mostly if they see me now and recognize me they just nod, Fight Club style, or loudly proclaim to one another "That guy kicks ass".

ANOTHER TIME I found a baby bird that had fallen out of it's nest and I took it in a box to the 24 hour veterinarian clinic with instructions to contact me if it could be saved and that I would pay for any surgeries or care needing to fix it... I'm not sure that it was ever recuperated but after that the wrens of the city seemed generally friendlier to me as well, especially around my former apartment building. I assumed that this was a trick of my imagination, but then I read Corvus, discussing some of the new avian sciences research on bird intelligence, so I am now not so sure.

Another time I was stopped on the street by a black guy at three in the morning telling me that he had just gotten out of prison and he needed money because his baby was sick and his car was broken, swearing that he would try to pay me back if I would just give him my address. This seemed too ridiculous a premise to try on someone as a cover story, especially a creepy giant guy wandering around late at night (in fact I was returning from a funeral that had gone on for a long period and had to traverse a few miles to get from where I used to live from where my car was parked) and so as we walked together we discussed life and his past in Arizona and I gave him some advice where to get help since he was new in town having moved from inner-city Chicago, where the food bank was, where the churches were that he could ask for assistance, etc. He showed up a few weeks later with his baby and wife to ask for more money because the times were really difficult, and I couldn't fault him for it, my friends had mostly said "Oh he's just conning you to buy crack", or "he is going to try to lure you into a basement and then take out all of your organs", but I think that he was telling me the truth, I had seen his car leaking and the woman that accompanied him did not seem to be some sort of actor. I gave him what little I could spare and told him that I was cutting him off until he could pay me (understanding that this was probably never). I still see him around sometimes, and I was never robbed or assaulted as everyone around me was ready to assume. I'm not trying to moralize of course, but in my view passing judgments on people without giving them a chance will never make the world a better place. (I have not universally become more likable to ex-cons to my knowledge).