Something happened on Saturday afternoon at Euston
Station that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. A good friend and I
were sat in the sun we had just eaten a lovely salad from Marks and Spencer's
and were waiting for the Train to take us back to our lovely comfortable homes
in rural Lancashire.
Then a man approached us, now being a frequent
visitor of London seeing someone homeless isn't new to me, I have always looked
the other way, had quite a harsh view of people begging. The man was a
Londoner and was asking for money, he had been beaten black and blue in fact I
would go as far to say I could not look at the injuries on his face, both his
eyes were black and purple, his face and lips were swollen, bruised and
cut.
He asked for some money, My Friend struck up a
conversation with him asked him about his injuries, he spent some time telling
her he had been to the hospital but discharged. As they had this conversation
it struck me he was just normal, just like me yet homeless and beaten. I sat with
my head down reading emails, completely unable to engage in the conversation
feeling really uncomfortable. My friend gave him some money he was very polite
and off he went.
When he left I told her I thought she was very
soft, it probably sounded harsh but I really meant kind. She looked at me and
said he is human, someone's son and I hope if someone I love needed help there
would be someone there to offer them kind words and help.
