Dear Gby and Nicole,
An old and white-haired man may have a different story to tell. Also, it seems
that he didn't ask anyone for anything so he may not have been a beggar at all.
Maybe he was just very, very poor and his wife was dead so she didn't wash hisclothes any more, and he had no faithful child to help him and no place to bathe
regularly. His age or health may have made him incontinent. That might help to account for the smell. Also, some illnesses cause bad smells.
It really is necessary for all of us to think of what we are doing to others'
hearts and souls by our behaviour toward them. I don't say this to you as an admonition. Why should I? You don't need it. Neither of you would have looked athim with hate or treated him as the driver and the others did. You are brave enough to observe, and to try to understand what should have been done and what you would hope to do. It is an important subject.
It is a subject that interests me and with which I have had some related experience. One of my real estate clients had an 18 year old son who had tried to commit suicide. He put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He didn't die. He shot off the lower part of his face including his nose, lips, and chin. This
young man accompanied his parents on all our visits to prospective future homes
and so I was continually in his company. His wounds were healed, but he looked
like something from a horror movie and he never wore a mask so everything was inplain view. I treated him at all times as though he were whole. We talked, and I didn't allow myself to react. I just looked into his eyes and then it was possible.
I had experience with a terrible wound before. It was made by removal of a breast and then doses of heavy radiation like they used to give it in the beginning
. This made a large square wound, front and back, because it penetrated right through the body. The wound wouldn't heal for months and months because the inner burn keeps coming the surface. In fact, it continues to scab for years. It was my dear mother's wound and I was 14 when I dressed it every day. I made a point of never showing any particular reaction or distress, and my father who dressed her wound the second time each day was the same as me although we hadn't seen each other changing the dressings, or discussed it together. She later told me how much that meant to her because her sister had reacted with extreme distress when she saw it, which wounded my mother deeply in her inner self. She said "
it just about killed her," and how grateful she was for my father and me and our
way.
So what about the hesitantly smiling old man? There he was. So vulnerable. Itis possible for us to control ourselves and not cast ugly looks at him. There
are plenty of ugly scenes and smells in life, even in public toilets. Surely for the sake of a poor old man people could control themselves for a brief time!
This old man should have been treated like a grandfather or a father. Not like
a rotting carcase of a dead dog in the street. That's my firm opinion. "No manknows what his own end shall be." Once he was a new baby. Once he was a little boy. Once he was a youth. Once he was a strong (we hope) middle aged man. No he is old and white haired, and still trying to muster a weak little smile. It wrings my heart.
With my appreciation for both of you for observing, thinking and discussing thispoignant and important situation.
Warmly, Mary
