I already saw her yesterday – George Street, Hanover Street. Sweater, windbreaker, enwind in a blanket - the hood on the head to guard her against the cold wind. In her hand a cardboard, written on it: “Homeless and Hungry – Please help, Thank you, God Bless”. In front of her a simple plastic bag for collecting the coins which passing people give to her.
I want to speak with her, find out something about her story, about what happens, that she has to sit here every single day and ask the passing people for food and money.
I want to invite her in a small Café, for sitting on a warmer place than here on the street, but she declines. “Then I lose money” is her answer. Money, what she could get from the passerby during that time. So I knee next to her, on the cold and hard foot-walk, where you get all the emissions from the big busses directly. To sit here is not nice, not for me, not for about 10 minutes. People watching you, watching you in a pitiful way, depreciatory. How it has to be to sitting here every day for begging?
She is only 26, put on the road by her own husband. They took her children away. What's left from her life? No job, no money and no family anymore. She sleeps everywhere and nowhere. She hopes to get a job one time and for getting back life – not her life, another one, a new one. But how? How you can get that big step if you are so low.
On the plastic bag in front of her, only pennies. I add a pound, but if it helps?