A City Confession

I love venturing into big cities. They're full of so much excitement and energy. It's amazing! I love the foods, the sites, the lights...everything! I even like the crazy amounts of people everywhere. I secretly like to pretend that I, too, am on some crazy work agenda and rush from subway station to subway station all hurriedly. It gives you the opportunity to be pushy on the escalators and, also, you get to look like you know what you're doing rather than looking like some lost tourist. So fun.

Okay, so here's the point of my post: I'm not a fan of the homeless/poor population that seems to make an appearance on every street corner. It's not because I don't have a heart or that I'm annoyed by them and wish they'd stop asking for help. It's more for the fact that my heart is a little bit sad at the sight of these poor peeps. I mean, come on now. They're freezing and then they have the dogs with them and ahh! So sad. I always look at my mom when I see these people thinking, "Just a euro, Mom!" But she always tells me, "It's just a game. This is what they do. Some of these people are very well off without your money." I still can't help but to feel bad passing them.

One time, when I was seven years old, my dad took me to breakfast in Newburgh. For those of you that don't know, Newburgh is filled with people that could use a little extra help to say the least. Well, we were waiting for a store to open on Broadway (yeah, Broadway!) and a guy passed that was asking for spare change. My dad told me not to make eye contact...but I did. I told my dad that he looked really sad and we should give him some money. I think the guy heard me because he then came to my dad and asked if he had spare change. Of course my dad gave him some. I mean he had a poor person on his one side and his seven year old daughter with a sad face because of this guy on his other side. The guy thanked my dad, and, if it was all for show, he deserves and award because his thank you sounded very sincere.

Another time, I was in London with my mother. My mother, unlike my father, has no problem saying no to anyone. As we were walking around near Westminster Abbey, my mom got ahead of me. An old lady came up to me and asked if I had any spare money for some sort of charity for children. I said that I didn't have money but that my mom probably did. My mom, seeing that I'm talking to some strange lady, comes back to me. I tell her that she has to give this lady some money for children. My mom flashes me the look of death and then tells the lady that she has no money for her and pulls me away. I was upset to put it lightly.

Yesterday (mhm, yesterday), I went to Cologne with my mother and one of her friends. The train ride was soooo long so, naturally, everyone had to pee as soon as we got of the train. On the way to the bathroom, there was a man sitting on a blanket. In his arms, bundled up, was his yellow lab. Oh, the pitifulness of this sight! I looked at my mom and even she said "aww." But then said, "Oh, please!" when she saw my face. As we passed, I snapped a picture. Why? Well, mainly because I've never seen such a sad sight and I wanted people to believe me. I did do it subtly, though. No worries. Anyway, the bathroom was really close where this man was. My mom asked if I was coming to the bathroom but I said I didn't have to go. Lies, I know. As they walked down the stairs to the bathroom, I walked over to the man and put a five euro bill in his bucket. If my mom finds out, chances are I will be either mocked or scolded. I know she reads this blog so I'm already preparing for it. But, seriously, who could just pass this man without feeling a bit sad?