homeless manI see someone rummaging through the garbage below one of our balconies (no we are not living in some sort of palace, we just have two balconies for some reason). Someone’s hungry! I get that kick in the stomach I always get when confronted with someone’s poverty and rush out, no shoes, but with something similar to a croissant in my hand. ‘Excuse me, sir, would you like to eat something?’

‘No’, says the man, barely making an effort to turn towards me, ‘I’m looking for -some unintelligible mumbling- to make closets.’

Glad that the man wasn’t hungry I go back inside, still in possession  of my croissant.

Zuzana kisses me on the forehead, saying ‘si zlaty’, you’re golden, meaning ‘sweet’.

So much for my ‘save the world’ attitude for today.

Why I’m like that? I think, as a small child, I wanted to save my parents from relative poverty, and couldn’t of course, and now the sight of anyhing that looks like poverty hurts me on a very personal level. Yet, when it comes to solving poverty, I still feel like that powerless child.

A bitter-sweet post on this Sunday, perhaps,

Live an authentic day!

PS Come to think  of it, I’m not entirely sure if it’s ok to use this picture here, even though you can’t see his face and he’s not doing anything wrong. What do you think?