Weather or Whether

When the weather turns, as often it does this time of year, the chances of a bit of company are greatly increased.  Those who get by through “grafting” would agree that the spot I chose will never make you rich but it does afford some very useful shelter from the elements.  Staying dry for as long as possible is very important; the chances of hypothermia, pneumonia and trench foot are greatly increased during wet weather.  Finding just the right dress code is a fine and tricky art: the perfect outfit for a cold and wet winter’s night is something of a hindrance during the daytime.  If, like me, you choose to carry your world around with you instead of stashing it “somewhere safe” to retrieve it in the evening, then your decisions have further complications.  I already have the weight of a sleeping bag, 2 pillows, a sleeping bag liner for the colder nights, some odds and ends and food and drink etc to carry around all day.  The weight and bulk of several changes of clothes would break not only the camel’s back but my shoulders too, and I doubt it is doing my bad leg any good either.  The “left luggage” option is too much for me to lose.  Aside from the risk of somebody else finding my things and leaving me with nothing to face the night with, “storing” anywhere would tie me to a very limited radius of activity all day as I would invariably need to return for various things as the day progresses.  I am not sure that I want to consider the physical impact of sleeping on cold, hard concrete and then carrying my life on my shoulders all day; it can’t be doing me much good.  This is why the library and the very few seats in the shopping centre are regular ports of call for me.

Sometimes in life events conspire in the most unusual or unexpected ways and beautiful moments occur.  I don’t want this to come across as some kind of parable, and I am more than keen for the individual to draw their own conclusions regarding religion in general.  Whether or not this is evidence of a higher power at work is not for me to say, this is just a recounting of events:

I was sat, as per usual, in the normal spot, watching the masses passing back and forth like clouds of migratory insects, feeling ever thankful for the small amount I had been donated here and there by the wider community.  It was during a lull in proceedings and an enjoyable “blank” moment when I can mentally totally relax that a young man tottered vaguely towards me, looking unbalanced in his gait but not in a drunken way.  He stopped to ask me where the rail station is as he had just been discharged from hospital.  The fresh stitches to his temple needed no explanation but he told me that his unsteadiness and confusion were from being attacked and robbed of his phone, wallet and watch.  He was confused more than concussed and I suspect the hospital had given him something strong for the pain which was adding to his wobbliness.  I gave him directions to the station which thankfully was not far away and was just about to send him on his way when a thought occurred to me.  His expression was a mixture of panic and bewilderment when I asked him how he was going to buy a train ticket and as much as he protested about taking money from a homeless person, I insisted he take it and get home safely – he had had enough drama for one day and with missing phones and wallets to replace and medication wearing off he would have enough of a headache to contend with in the morning.  I didn’t have much to give but clearly his needs were greater than mine so I “paid it forward”.  I can only assume he got home safely that night as I heard nothing more.  No news is good news or so they say.