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I grew up in poverty. For 25 years I was fed on aid.

We were poor. But my mom never accepted that. She worked hard to become a residential contractor - got her master's with honors at the University of New Orleans. I used to go to every class with her. Her father was my paternal figure.

That is one of the bitter curses of poverty; it leaves no right to be generous.

Like so many families, we were dealing with limited means. We weren't poor at all, but we had some challenging times financially. When my stepdad got laid off... we were really trying to find our footing for a couple of years.

There was an undercurrent of poverty throughout my childhood. We lived with my grandmother in her two-bedroom flat, and I slept with my parents. We had cheap holidays, I had to save for my bike and get a paper round as soon as I was old enough.

I was a Presbyterian minister at a small church in Omaha, Nebraska.

As a young man, I was a navy officer in Vietnam. I made $320 a month and would always give away $50 a month to a family I felt that was in greater need than me, in addition to my tithing to my church. I've just always felt in my heart, coming from a very humble background, that there are plenty of people who need a break in life.

I have seen that traditional approaches to charity and aid don't solve problems of poverty. In fact, too often they create dependence.

In my early years, my father was away as a soldier in the war. When he came back, work was very difficult to come by. Even though he was a highly skilled man, a maker of furniture, the payment for that work was very poor.

My mom grew up in poverty in Oklahoma - like Dust Bowl, nine people in one room kind of place - and the way she got out of poverty was through education. My dad grew up without a dad, with very little and he also made his way out through education.