It's not that people don't have money to give you.
It's only that, you're a fool. You borrow from your friends in the name of returning them next week, that next week become eternity. They start avoiding you since you're silly and forgetful.
He appeared in the lantern room during the storm. Gray beard, yellow raincoat, eyes like distant ships. “Keep the light on, lad,” he whispered. “They still need it.”