One of those little daily encounters with a big take-home message…
It was an indulgent Friday afternoon in the city with my boys. Lord of the Fries, Kripsy Kreme, new books from the city bookshop and now we were making our way to the lolly shop, before going to Daddy’s work. The boys were bursting with excitement to see his office and I couldn’t be happier.
Pushing through the city crowds as we crossed Collins Street I was so focused on not running someone over with the pram that I barely noticed him.
I was so focused on getting to the lolly shop that I barely saw him.
He was wearing jeans, a grey jumper, sneakers and a black baseball cap. He was kneeling upright. His head bowed very low. His arms raised above his head. His hands clasped together, begging for money.
My reflex reaction was to look away and keep pushing past. Yet I only managed to take 10 more steps. Abruptly I stopped the pram and stood there. The people bumping past were annoyed that I was now an obstacle in the flow of pedestrians.
But I couldn’t take another step. My conscience was screaming at me. My head was a football match of voices. He is so young. What happened in his life so that he is here now? Gosh he looks to be my husband’s age. Oh my, surely he must have a family. You can’t solve his problems. Keep going. You are going to be late.