Tissue paper, 1 dollar!

"Tissue paper, 1 dollar! Tissue paper, 1 dollar!"

The old man was sitting in a wheelchair. His left leg was amputated from above his knee cap. He was holding out three packets of tissue paper, mouthing the words monotonously, and pleadingly looking out to the crowd moving swiftly past him. And I was one of them.

This was a sight I dreaded.

Old, poor and pathetic. Makes one feel so upset. Sometimes, I would wonder, "Don't they have children to take care of them? Does the government provide them with assistance? How were they like when they were young? Do they feel sorry for themselves in this state?"

It is not easy for those who are in their 60s, 70s or even 80s, to hold out packets of tissue paper the whole day, calling out for people to purchase them. Teenage volunteers who spend half a day selling bookmarks, flags or souvneirs will tell you about the leg aches they experience and the inconsiderate people they meet, who shun them as if they are houseflies. What about these old folks, who face this day in day out and who depend on this for a living?

These poor elderly are everywhere around us, that is, if we choose to "see" them. Most of the time, many of us choose the "ostrich" approach. It is so easy to hurry past them and "ignore" their presence. If we do not "see" them, we pretend that they are not there.

It is a fact that these people need a helping hand (let's disregard those cheats who are in disguise, for the moment). But, I often think, what can my one dollar do to help? I may be able to help one person, but what about the rest? When I think of all those whom I would not be able to reach out to, I retreat and take a step back. I do not know how to explain this weird psychological behaviour, silly, isn't it?

But seriously, there is a limit to what one can do. A person's strength is limited. One will never be able to help everyone else. But, a person's one dollar may be able to ease one other person's meal. And if everyone chips in that way, more people will be reached out to, and eventually (and hopefully) everyone will receive assistance. We have to start somewhere, somehow.

With that in mind, I turned, ran back to the old man and bought three packets of tissue paper from him.

He gave me a smile. You can imagine my beaming smile back too.