her name is maria

I found myself walking alongside a woman in gypsy dress between George's Street Arcade and South William Street. She was moving swiftly between people and asking each for money. Her pace matched mine and as I turned down the side street and realised she was going my way, and that she was softly pleading to my back for money, I remembered that I had a €1 coin in my pocket, retrieved it and handed it to her.

"God bless you, you are beautiful," she said. I thought the same of her.
"Where are you from?" she asked, clearly engaging me in hopes that she might appeal to me further. I obliged by falling in step with her and told her I was American, and asked where she was from.

Her name is Maria, and she had fled Bosnia and came to Ireland. She told me she has four babies, one with diabetes, has no partner and they are living in Phoenix Park because they can't afford to pay the cost of €50 to stay in a hostel. She told me she asks people for money but they don't listen, that her babies are getting sick because it is getting cold, and she looked into my eyes and begged me to give her more.

I stopped and faced her on the corner of South William, looked into her eyes and told her I had no more cash on me. It was true. I was holding a still hot cup of coffee (which I offered to her), I was dressed in good clothes, I was carrying a bag which contained, among other things, a mobile phone, an iPod and a wallet with two cards that would allow me to purchase things, I had a car parked in a multi-storey car park around the corner, and I was going to be sleeping in a warm house later after eating a meal, and still I had no more cash on my person that I could share with her.

I pleaded with her to understand that I had no more cash on me, not even change. I couldn't say that I would be visiting Tesco where I would purchase ingredients for dinner and ask them for cash back while I was there because she wouldn't be there to benefit from it. I touched her arm and told her that she and her babies were in my thoughts and I wished I could do more.

She turned away in haste the instant she knew that there was nothing more forthcoming. Her face dropped, hinted pain, and she moved on away from me swiftly in a desperate search for more, having wasted precious daylight trying to convince me to give her a tenner.

I walked on feeling distraught.

One might be skeptical about the veracity of what she told me about her life, but no matter what her truth was she was still a human who was in a desperate enough situation to simply trawl the streets begging for loose change. It doesn't matter if things are as desperate as she says or not, she's clearly worse off than everyone I personally know. I walked back to my car knowing how lucky I am simply to be born in the right place at the right time.

I came face to face today with everything I have and how lucky I am to have it, and with the truth that while I see leaner times ahead I am in the privileged position that I am not a refugee from a war-torn country with children to feed who has no option but hope that kindness of strangers will keep me from living or dying this winter.

In a moment, I suddenly found myself wishing to give up my Earthly things and go travel out into the world to raise capital from people who have it and give it to those who need it, and to find solace and help for Maria and her children.