On a trip to London a few months ago, while taking the metro downtown, a young man, dressed appropriately but looking messy and dirty, entered our carriage and asked for money. He explained that he wasn’t a beggar but that he had lost his job, was struggling to pay his rent, and had been sleeping on the streets for the past two days. I started searching through my pockets and turned my purse upside down, only to realize I wasn’t carrying any cash. I felt a wave of stress and concern as I could sense the desperation in his voice. My entire body felt the heaviness of his experience.
Looking around, I noticed that no one else seemed to acknowledge him. Everyone was engrossed in their phones, acting as if he didn’t exist. Whether his request was genuine or not didn’t matter to me. For all I knew, he could have been living in a palace built by deceiving people like myself.
Some might argue, “Oh, he would just use the money for cigarettes, alcohol, or drugs.” But what if he used it for food or shelter? If one out of ten beggars uses the money for food, then helping all ten is worth it to ensure at least one person gets what they need.
Upon realizing the state of the human condition and the indifference surrounding me, I burst into tears right then and there, experiencing an emotional breakdown like never before in public. I cried and sobbed and felt my tears running down my cheeks, meeting under my chin like rivers merging into a sea.
I suddenly had this feeling that I am without a house, hungry and left by everyone and it was such a solid feeling that I couldn’t shake it for days after.
Am I telling this story to emphasize the goodness of my heart and the deplorable state of the others I shared the carriage with? No. I didn’t care who gave this man the money, as long as someone gave him something. My ultimate desire was not to feel good about myself by performing a charitable act but to see someone out of trouble, even if only for a little while.
It ripped my heart apart to see so many people, young and old, following each other’s lead in their attempt not to be “fooled”. Perhaps they didn’t have either but if I apply my common sense, all those traveling that day in the same carriage had more than that young man. It was a horrible feeling that bothered me for days afterward, and it still troubles me as I write about it now.
We are without hope if we continue to suppress our compassion and empathy. I wish we could acknowledge that we are all instruments of a higher source and that when we are faced with an opportunity to help someone in need, it is an honor bestowed upon us. Someone sent that young man our way because they believed he was being directed to the right people. How tragic it is to realize that the help couldn’t be given and that it may take several metro rides for him to finally meet with someone compassionate enough. Please, if you ever meet with anyone’s asks for food or some change, just give it to them. Don’t think too much and don’t analyze the actions or past of a human being you know nothing about.
THE WONDERMIND 