Something Nice

[AgentPete]

There’s a homeless man who lives in our street – Baker Street. He’s middle-aged, Middle-Eastern – maybe Syrian? – and has a most intelligent face. His meagre worldly belongings are rigorously neat – folded, organised, buttoned-down.

He spends his days tidying about 50 metres of the pavement - his pavement, really. No leaf is allowed to remain for more than a few seconds. Certainly no litter. It is the cleanest part of Baker Street, without question. He never begs, and mostly avoids eye contact.

On my way to morning coffee, I often wonder what misfortune brought him here. He keeps his patch clean, and neat, and in his own small way the street needs him, as do the thousands of commuters who barely notice him every day.

This morning, a young man approached him, most respectfully. I think he was Dutch.

“Sir”, he enquired, “have you eaten today?”

I didn’t hear the answer.

The question was enough to make me happy.

 

[KG Christopher]

It's easy to judge just from the headlines we read (thinking the mail), but we should never forget that non of us asked to be born, and we all have a story to tell.

 

[Paul Whybrow]

I've worked on several homeless campaigns, including the Crisis at Christmas in London. I helped to staff a disused law court building in Islington, where 130 homeless people were sheltered for a few days. They had warm beds, washing and laundry facilities and medical care.

There were all sorts of stories that led them to live on the streets, including fleeing persecution in their homeland, failed businesses and broken relationships. I met an Iranian, who'd been conscripted into the Shah's army at the age of 14 in 1979, literally hauled from the classroom to receive basic weapons training and thrust into a firefight against revolutionaries trying to overthrow his corrupt regime. He later escaped and joined the guerrillas, helping to defeat the Shah's army. He'd been granted political asylum in this country, but soon became homeless, before finding live-in accommodation helping other refugees.

There were people who'd been homeless most of their lives, some for 40 years. If a person has experienced abuse at home or long-term imprisonment, they can't tolerate being enclosed by walls. The most unusual client I worked with, was a barrister who was representing a high-profile client at the Old Bailey. She'd been locked out of her home by her female partner, and as the mortgage was in her name she had the legal right to do so. It was odd to see the barrister on the television screen during news reports, knowing she was in such reduced circumstances.

 

[David Newrick]

There’s a homeless man who lives in our street – Baker Street. He’s middle-aged, Middle-Eastern – maybe Syrian? – and has a most intelligent face. His meagre worldly belongings are rigorously neat – folded, organised, buttoned-down.

He spends his days tidying about 50 metres of the pavement - his pavement, really. No leaf is allowed to remain for more than a few seconds. Certainly no litter. It is the cleanest part of Baker Street, without question. He never begs, and mostly avoids eye contact.

On my way to morning coffee, I often wonder what misfortune brought him here. He keeps his patch clean, and neat, and in his own small way the street needs him, as do the thousands of commuters who barely notice him every day.

This morning, a young man approached him, most respectfully. I think he was Dutch.

“Sir”, he enquired, “have you eaten today?”

I didn’t hear the answer.

The question was enough to make me happy.

It is beautiful to see someone trying to help someone else Pete. I was at an AGM last night and it looks like I will be involved in yet another community initiative (unpaid) but hey ho! it is good to give something back. I have also just received an email appeal to attend a meeting next weekend about providing meals this Christmas Day for the homeless in the Sunderland area. If I attend that meeting I know exactly what is going to happen!

 

[AgentPete]

Interesting. Maybe the pendulum is about to swing, away from the culture of narcissism, away from politicians of all descriptions, and back towards an ethos of mutual help. I'd like to think so.

 

[Peggy Lou]

Pere, from your description, one can imagine the home and the life he lost, not to mention the family.

I think many ordinary people are kind and try to help as much as they can. Part of the problem with the kind of situation you mentioned is uncertainty. You said he doesn't beg. So many people may not have wanted to offer something, for fear of causing offense.

The Donald Trumps of this world seem legion because they get way more coverage.

 

[KG Christopher]

I was thinking about the recent headlines about children from Calais and the suggestion that some of them were '35 years old'. I have done some volunteer work in Lausanne in Switzerland with people seeking asylum from Eritrea, Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia and I have heard so many stories. One that really touched me was a young man called Arif from Afghanistan, he was 22 years old, and a child. He had been kicked out of home at the age of 14 and told 'go to Europe' and the thing that he regretted more than anything was having a family life. Having a father and mother to care for him. He was forced to work, live as an adult since the age of 14 and it wrecked him. He was looking to see if he could get 'fostered' into a family for 6 months to experience family life and I had to tell him no way was it going to happen. Nuts, but even though some of these people are technically adults, they just don't have the skill sets to cope.

 

[Emurelda]

One of the most telling signs of a Syrian is their constant need to sweep. I do not jest or attempt to mock. During my stay in Syria from Jan 2011 to Apr 2012, before it got out of hand, every shop keeper would splash a bucket of water and begin the thorough sweep clean of his/her front paving of their property.

Opposite Hyde Park there is a road I can't remember the name of but there is a string of Embassies and one sure sign of the Syrian Embassy is the wet, clean patch directly infront where they had finished sweeping that morning. You will know it when you see it. Rich or poor this is their cultural habit of keeping 'their patch' clean and tidy.

 

[Marc Joan]

One of the most telling signs of a Syrian is their constant need to sweep. I do not jest or attempt to mock. During my stay in Syria from Jan 2011 to Apr 2012, before it got out of hand, every shop keeper would splash a bucket of water and begin the thorough sweep clean of his/her front paving of their property.

Opposite Hyde Park there is a road I can't remember the name of but there is a string of Embassies and one sure sign of the Syrian Embassy is the wet, clean patch directly infront where they had finished sweeping that morning. You will know it when you see it. Rich or poor this is their cultural habit of keeping 'their patch' clean and tidy.

Nice. Sounds like my parents' description of pre-war UK - scrub the front door step to avoid general disapprobation.

 

[Katie-Ellen]

Bless him. And the young man.

 

[do do Ron Ron]

There’s a homeless man who lives in our street – Baker Street. He’s middle-aged, Middle-Eastern – maybe Syrian? – and has a most intelligent face. His meagre worldly belongings are rigorously neat – folded, organised, buttoned-down.

He spends his days tidying about 50 metres of the pavement - his pavement, really. No leaf is allowed to remain for more than a few seconds. Certainly no litter. It is the cleanest part of Baker Street, without question. He never begs, and mostly avoids eye contact.

On my way to morning coffee, I often wonder what misfortune brought him here. He keeps his patch clean, and neat, and in his own small way the street needs him, as do the thousands of commuters who barely notice him every day.

This morning, a young man approached him, most respectfully. I think he was Dutch.

“Sir”, he enquired, “have you eaten today?”

I didn’t hear the answer.

The question was enough to make me happy.

"Dignity"

 

[Katie-Ellen]

This vale of tears. I used to work with long term unemployed in the north east. I had 5 days to help them find a job or next recognised step while they were on benefits. In Consett where I was largely based, most of the male population had by that point been out of work ten years or more, after the closure of the steelworks.

I had to sign them in every morning, send the papers over to the job centre.

One man, very clean, neat and tidy, wrote 'the roundabout at Stanley' on his form.
That was where he was sleeping.
Public loos and pubs kept him entirely presentable, the poor soul.

He had lost his job, and then his marriage, then his home.

 

[Emurelda]

This vale of tears. I used to work with long term unemployed in the north east. I had 5 days to help them find a job or next recognised step while they were on benefits. In Consett where I was largely based, most of the male population had by that point been out of work ten years or more, after the closure of the steelworks.

I had to sign them in every morning, send the papers over to the job centre.

One man, very clean, neat and tidy, wrote 'the roundabout at Stanley' on his form.
That was where he was sleeping.
Public loos and pubs kept him entirely presentable, the poor soul.

He had lost his job, and then his marriage, then his home.

I hope he managed to somehow regain his life back... somehow.

As an impressionable child I watched my parents build themselves up from nothing. First my mother escaped from the Iraqi regime whilst my father was on conscription and then he used his wits to leave earlier than contracted. Story for another day.
But they were homeless coming from a wealthy family originally to start again. Life can pull the rug from right under us anytime and the world seems impossibly harsh.

 

[Robinne Weiss]

I hope he managed to somehow regain his life back... somehow.

As an impressionable child I watched my parents build themselves up from nothing. First my mother escaped from the Iraqi regime whilst my father was on conscription and then he used his wits to leave earlier than contracted. Story for another day.
But they were homeless coming from a wealthy family originally to start again. Life can pull the rug from right under us anytime and the world seems impossibly harsh.

Which is why I practice random acts of kindness. Truly, we never know what people are going through--we all do our best to keep up appearances, because no one wants to look like they're in trouble. Kindness goes a long way, and only grows as it's given.