Like so many other people, I chose not to see them. Of course, I’ve thrown bits of change into their outstretched hands before, but I’ve never really stopped to think about what it must be really like to live on the streets. I’ve never stopped to think about what it must be like to be constantly cold and hungry, to be constantly shunned and avoided.
I’ve never thought about the dangers facing these kids every day either. Or what it must be like to be hungry and thirsty, then see people who seem like they have everything, throwing away a half-eaten sandwich. But even more poignantly, I’ve never considered what it must be like to have nothing and no one in this world, to feel like you don’t matter, like no one cares one way or the other about whether you live or die.
It’s a sobering thought and some of the stories I’ve heard today made my hair stand on end, and others made me burn with anger. After a couple of hours, I started to understand why Ashley does what she does. It’s not about self-gratification, it’s about hearing these stories and realizing that if you just stand back and nod sympathetically, then you are a part of the problem.
I made a decision while I was there. Even if Ashley backs out of this deal, she’s still getting the money. Obviously, I won’t be able to give her so much each month because that will be out of my hands if the board takes over the company, but she’ll still get the lump sum, and if I walk away from the company and start my own, then her charity will get a percentage of that.
I’m not about to tell her this though. I might have had my eyes opened to the lives these kids are forced to lead, but I haven’t gone completely soft in the head. I don’t want to give her an easy way out, which would mean I lose everything.
“You surprised me in there, Finn,” Ashley murmurs as we get into my car. “I kind of expected you to keep the kids at arm’s length.”
“Honestly, I surprised myself,” I admit. “I didn’t expect to find myself hugging kids and listening to their stories either.” I turn slightly to face her. “And I definitely didn’t expect to feel like this.”
“Feel what?”
“To feel… as if I did something important,” I admit honestly. If I had gone back and tackled my to-do-list it would have been satisfying, but it would never have felt like this.
“You didn’t expect it to feel rewarding?” Ashley asks, with an eyebrow raised.
“No,” I say softly, but suddenly, I can’t look into her searching eyes. What I’m feeling is too real and too hard to articulate. I turn my gaze back to the front, put the car into gear, and pull away. “Are you going home now?”
“No. To the office, please.”
I nod and turn the car in that direction.
For a while, there is silence. Then I let it pour out, “I didn’t expect to feel so angry about what was happening to these kids. I didn’t expect to feel so protective of them.” I can feel Ashley’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn to look at her, instead I keep my eyes firmly on the road, even though we’re at a red light.
“You expected them all to be druggies or rebellious, didn’t you?” Ashely asks. “Kids you could tell yourself brought their misfortune on themselves.” Her voice doesn’t sound judgmental. It sounds resigned, like she experiences it every day.
“Yeah, I did,” I confess. “And I know why. It’s easier to ignore the problem and tell yourself it’s not up to you to fix it if you let yourself believe that the homeless are not your problem. That they somehow, don’t deserve their situation exactly, but that they’re somehow responsible for their own mess. But when you see how many of them are just kids, then you can’t pretend anymore.”
“For what it’s worth, I thought that way myself once too.” Ashley nods. “Until I started working with these kids, that is. That’s why I fight so hard for them, because aside from all the obvious challenges they face, people don’t realize how much prejudice they face. Can you imagine Finn, being fifteen and not having eaten for three days? And every adult that passes you by just shrugs it off, and doesn’t help you. Imagine how that must feel.”
“I don’t want to imagine it,” I say quietly.
“No one does, because then they know they’d be forced to act.’ Her voice changes slightly.
I do look at her then, just a quick glance.
She’s smiling. “But you know the difference between you and ninety-nine percent of the people in this city who are in a position to help? You are helping. The money you are donating is going to make a huge difference to these kids’ lives. But more than that, you sucked it up, went in there and actually helped them. You spoke to them like they mattered, and while there are still people willing to do that, then these kids still have hopes and dreams for a better future.”