This blog is small. I would like to talk about my peculiarity – excessive kindness towards beggars begging on the street.
As a child, I loved and https://lowdeposit-casinos.co.uk/review/slottio/ at the same time disliked going to the city center with my mother. This was around 2003, when life for me personally was carefree. I ate kilograms of ice cream and then got sick with a sore throat (with pleasure, of course, because I didn’t particularly like school), drank apple juice by the liter, because I can’t stand lemonade, and just walked with friends, climbing the earthen slides that appeared as a result of pipe inspections.
But I digress. So, I loved trips to the center because I always saw something new. Shops, some supermarkets, a cinema building under construction – all this aroused in me a lively and genuine curiosity. And mom didn’t refuse to wander around the city.
But why did I, in fact, not like to travel to the very core of the city on the Volga?? The answer is simple – a large number of beggars, crippled people and simply homeless people. They danced, sang, simply begged or literally begged for food. Some of them kept their only friends close to them – animals. Cats and dogs who unwittingly shared their terrible fate with the poor. To my mother’s surprise, I did not feel any alienation towards the super-poor part of the population. The little boy always tugged at his mother’s bag and asked her for twenty rubles in small coins. She gave me, as far as I can remember, half the amount, and I began to approach everyone and give them a ruble or two. I heard only one phrase from them:
-Thank you very much, son..
Now I’m older. I have my own problems, but not a trace remains of that carefree attitude. But all the same, when I see a beggar old woman and my eyes are dull from the feeling of abandonment, my hand reaches into the treasured breast pocket and pulls out a couple of coins, which a moment later fall into a small plastic cup. I don’t care what they think of me, who says what about me. But I don’t want the weak and sick to remain on the street, living the rest of their lives there. This childhood dream still lives in me.