Only a fool would contend that he does not need money. Only an idiot would profess no use for it. Clearly our survival depends on it. I have heard it said that money couldn't buy love. Perhaps so, but it surely can put you in a bargaining position. If it can't buy everything, it certainly is better than whatever is in second place. So much for the clichés.

A Roman Catholic priest, at his initiation, takes a vow of poverty and chastity. For many, the newspapers tell us, the one of chastity has lost all meaning. When I look at the elaborate vestments of the high officials of the Church and the size of diocesan holdings, I increasingly wonder if the vow of poverty pertains to penury of the mind rather than of things.

Gurdwara sermons, too, rail repeatedly and endlessly against attachment to worldly riches, while we continue to gild the gurdwara buildings. But read the lines carefully, it is the love of riches that is the target and is reviled in gurbani, not riches per se. Similarly the biblical injunction is not against money but the love of money, which is branded as the source of all evil.

No Guru ever advocated a life of poverty, of the mind or the pocket. No Guru ever lived the life of a poor man. Even the work of God and Guru requires money. It is when money becomes an end rather than a tool that we get into trouble. Ends and means must both be honest and honorable, but by confusing one for the other is how the road to perdition is paved. History is replete with examples of those who cannot tell one apart from the other. But life is also full of those whose vision is not so clouded or muddled.

An obvious example is Bhagat Puran Singh. A poor man whose charitable work on behalf of the poor and the sick - particularly lepers - in Punjab earned him the accolade of "Bhagat," for in his dedication he surely lived the meaning of the word. The countryside of Punjab is now dotted with small collection boxes in the name of the society that he founded - Pingalwara - that outlives him and continues the good work that he started. We all know the work of Mother Teresa that exemplified the nobility of her calling.

Bhagat Puran Singh and Mother Teresa are certainly not alone in what they did, nor are they the first or the last, but they came to my mind while reading the obituary of a little known man, Matel Dawson, who died last November at age 81.

Dawson bequeathed over a million dollars to education and sundry money to other charitable organizations. But what is so unusual about that, you could ask. The Rockefellers and Kennedys of our day, even some modern dot.com captains of industry, have given away far more money than this, and do so everyday at the advice of their accountants. Bill Gates is a formidable and fantastic example of putting one's money to good use.

Dawson was only a black, forklift operator without even a high school diploma. He dropped out of school to help his family. He never earned more than $26.00 per hour. He started buying Ford Motor Company stock in 1939 when he began working there and continued to do so. But the bulk of his estate came from 12-hour shifts, no vacations and a thrifty lifestyle.

Dawson donated $90,000 when his annual earning was less than $60,000. He promised to "live below his means" in a culture where we all live well above it. When President Bill Clinton invited him to the White House to honor him and others like him, his first question was would the White House make up his lost wages.

Let me underscore my point by an item in the New York Times that recently caught my eye. There was no way to miss the three by five and a half inch picture of the former "Maharajah of Patiala, " Yadavindra Singh, in all his glory wearing his parade necklace. Biblike in form, this largest necklace ever made by Cartier consisted of giant gems and five rows of diamonds. Originally it had 2,930 diamonds and weighed almost a thousand carats - that is nearly half a pound in weight of diamonds, priced at nearly 30 million dollars.

The Maharajah's gargantuan appetite (that is Yadavindra Singh's father Bhupindar Singh), the Times notes, and reputation for excess in all areas of life - food, women, travel, sports, politics and most of all, jewels - were the stuff of legend. The Patiala necklace was last seen intact in 1941 on Yadavindra Singh. Over the years, the diamonds have been sold, as have the platinum chains.

Sure, the House of Patiala also endowed many educational institutions, hospitals and schools. But history will likely remember them more for their fairy tale luxurious life style and less by their philanthropy.

Why do I selectively focus on the Bhagat Puran Singhs and the Matel Dawsons of the world rather than the Rockefellers, Carnegies and maharajas of yesteryear?

What counts is how big your heart is, not how deep is the pocket. It is not the size of the donation that matters but what proportion of your life it represents. It is for this reason that Sikhism argues for a donation of ten percent of your life to community causes, however small the total dollar figure that it may amount to. The interesting thing is that the likes of Dawson and Bhagat Puran Singh are never looking for a marble plaque.

The satisfaction is in the giving, and that is the message of Sikhism. It is in giving that we receive, said Thomas Aquinas.

Inder Jit Singh is Professor & Co-ordinator of Anatomy at New York University. Among other publications, he is the author of two books of essays: 'Sikhs and Sikhism: A View With a Bias' and 'The Sikhs Way: A Pilgrims Progress' and is on the editorial advisory board of 'The Sikh Review', Calcutta.