In the midst of the bustle along Regent Street in this season of abundance and overindulgence, an old woman stood on the pavement and pleaded, “Please for a help.”
Anyone who frequents downtown Georgetown would hear this quite often from beggars. But there is something disturbing about seeing the outstretched arms of the elderly, watching the sadness in their eyes and hearing the desperation in their voices. She was at least in her eighties and possibly even nineties. My anxiety about being on Regent Street during this time of year always results in the quickening of my footsteps, and so I walked past her; but then compassion made me stop. I was cautious as people strolled and hurried; and swift because some pickpocket is often lingering nearby, watching the movements of unsuspecting victims, eager to snatch a purse, a phone, jewellery or anything of value.
