Open Writing

When I was a teenager I experienced for a time what it was like to live on the streets. This was not out of choice. I couldn't get a job, I had no money coming in and I had no place to live in.

Ever since then I have felt sorry for those I see begging on the sreets. I always give them a coin.

Once I was walking past a building which was being renovated. There was a man sitting on the ground outside it. He was holding a cup of tea and he looked so sad. I reached into my pocket, took out a coin and dropped it in front of him. As I was walked on I heard hoots of laughter. Other men had come out of the building and had seen me drop the coin. The man with the cup of tea, looking embarrassed, stood up, put on a hard hat and disappeared into the building.

I was informed by one of the men that I had mistaken their foreman for a beggar.

Once, while serving in the Army in the north of England, I was approached by a bloke who asked if I could spare him ten pence for a cup of tea. Now I'm a tall chap, but I was bending down at the time, re-tying a shoe lace. I was putting my hand in my pocket to get a coin when I was suddenly hit on the back of the head.

I was dazed for a second or two, then I was angry. I pulled myself up to my full height. The bloke who had asked for the money was holding something in his hand. Some kind of cosh.

When he saw the size of me he muttered something and ran off.

Then there was the chap selling magazines on the street. He approached me and asked me to buy one. I gave him a pound. He then asked if he could keep the magazine because it was his last one. I agreed.

I then watched him from a distance. He pulled the same trick on two other people. I then approached him again and told him I had changed my mind. I took the magazine from his hand and walked away.

Then I saw him take another magazine from inside his coat and carry on as before.

Yes, I do still give to the needy, but now I'm much happier giving it to a recognised charity.