n.b. The other night a song played by the Irish folk band in a bar in Southsea, from an album we listened to as children, before we had the wherewithal to buy our own, caught my brother’s attention. The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem album, bought by my father, featured a great love song, “Holy Ground“.
Hearing it being played through the talk of the bar, my brother said, “We know this one!” We did, from childhoods more than 50 years previous.
The magic of music. I could see the record player; the cabinet it sat in; the room it sat in; the view from the window; the house; the memory of singing along.
Yesterday a friend sought help from family and acquaintances to find out what ailed a young, homeless man.
He had travelled in hope of work to Switzerland, having paid an agent to get him there. He was stranded, hungry, cold and wet.
One of her friends spoke Romanian better than he spoke English. They spoke on the telephone.
When his needs were understood, my friend took him to a café for a meal, bought him a ticket home online and funded him to buy his own food for the journey (including some Swiss chocolate to take back to his wife).
Simply giving cash would have been quicker and easier, but does handing out coins and notes alone change anything?
Can we lift ourselves above personal day-to-day concerns and see, hear and help those with more urgent needs?