What would Jesus do?

When she's not busy bossing me, the Farm Manager still has her day gig at the local school board, where she tends to the lowest of the low, the unfortunates who need help not just in the classroom, but in the bathroom as well. Those kids can grow on you, and you want to do what you can to help them. The one who’s grown on the FM the last few years is a kid from a Syrian family the Canadian government plucked out of a refugee camp in Lebanon a few years ago. I don’t know what the criteria are for who we deem fit for entry, but if “will depend on government support in perpetuity” is one of them, this family scored a home run. Little Buddy has diabetes, a development delay, a speech impediment (in both English and Arabic), and is confined to a wheelchair. How can you not fall in love with a kid like that?! The FM comes up with the idea that we should take the lad out for an afternoon just to give the long-suffering family a break. So we did. After man-handling Little Buddy and his assorted paraphernalia (wheelchair, turner, medical emergency kit, etc.) into and out of the car, I was beat and my back hurt. There is money available to compensate helpful folks like us for our efforts. The money goes to the family. The family. Since they generally can’t work and make income, they need every dollar and every cent they get their hands on. How can I even think about compensation in a situation like this? What would Jesus do?