Todays story begins at the Queen Vic market in Melbourne. It has a large veranda and sometimes they feed those who sleep rough there with a bottle of water and a BBQ.
Jeanine and I have stayed an inexpensive but comfortable hotel just around the corner from all this so we know the area well and we know who and what to expect. It’s not ritzy, it’s not sexy and glamorous and pretty much every time I have to check myself, remind myself, that I have no idea what has led these people to their destitution and I have no idea where and who they will be in 6 months time and what they will look like.
A mental illness, a case of abuse, the invisible scourge of PTSD.
The trouble is that every time I consciously or subconsciously dismiss one of these little ones, I not only do a disservice to them, but, just as appallingly, I discredit and diminish my own self and therefore all my brothers and sisters. Everybody loses.
In his book ‘The promise’ Arnold Dix captures this eloquently and succinctly in his own encounter.
“I once gave money to a beggar on the street in Melbourne. The person I was with scoffed, telling me I had probably just been scammed. That immediate dismissal of a perfect stranger doesn’t sit well with me. Even considering that possibility gets in the way of the intention of my act to show someone a little kindness and some mercy.
Who cares if they spend that money on alcohol? Who cares if they don’t need it as much as they have implied?
When we do not take each other at face value, when we discard people because they do not act or look like we think they should, we do a disservice to each other as human beings.”