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We as humans, are judged on the basis of our character and our abilities to take care of those less fortunate.
Doing so releases the feeling of self worth and a job well done.
I feel good tonight.

I’m not trying to boast, because I’m not, nor am I on a high horse. I’m simply stating the facts of tonight. I did a good deed and it made me feel good inside.

I went to go see The Cottage with James tonight and it was ******** horrible x.x; Don’t waste your money guys.

Leicester Square was full of bloody people and it was raining cats and dogs… we hung out after for a little bit and were going to go hide in a pub but I said I wasn’t feeling too good and decided to just go home via underground. I’m glad I did too.

I was soaked, cold, and wanted to go home.. Not very much fun to hang out with I’ll admit. Plus the shitty movie had put me in a bad mood.

There was this homeless girl sitting, more like crouching to get out of the rain, in the entrance of the Tube… now.. Being in the city jades people to just ignore them.. And so we passed without a second thought… but her image stuck in my head and as I stood and waited for James to top up his oyster card I felt bad. You know when you can tell the difference between someone who is actually homeless and someone who’s just taking the piss out of society?
She was the real deal.. I could just feel it… I mentioned to James that I felt bad for her and he suggested I give her some change. I dug through my pockets and came up with about £6 give or take.
He went to top up and I climbed back up to the entrance of the station.
She was small, somewhere in her twenties.. Severely underweight with curly dark hair and deep brown eyes. Shivering uncontrollably and clinging for life to the Styrofoam cup she had found in the trash, a drop or two of tea still in the bottom with the few pennies of donation.
She had no shoes and the gnarled flesh of her feet and hands reminded me of Trench Foot. A condition found in soldiers in the first world war who had to live in rain soaked trenches.. The skin can only absorb so much moisture and upon continual exposure the feet begin to rot and callous.

I gave her my shoes. They’re a size too big but they were warm and better than having none at all.
I asked her what had happened to hers and she replied in a quiet and shaking voice that they ‘had been pinched’ while she was asleep. Her clothing, the only possessions she had was stolen from her in her sleep….
It broke my heart.

I said they were a bit wet from the pouring rain and she nodded, taking them with one bony hand and said she would let them dry for a few minutes before putting them on.
I hope she does…

In my wet socks I turned, satisfied, and joined James, who hadn’t noticed, back in the station before getting on my train.
It’s not against the law to ride with out shoes but I got a few looks. That’s fine. If only they understood that I did have shoes.. But they went to someone who needed them much more than I who has many.
My flat is quite close to Holborn Station and the walk home wasn’t too bad at all. Cold of course but not too bad. I think I stepped on a bit of glass and one of my feet got cut.. The thing getting caught in my socks which were removed shortly after. I washed my feet nd bandaged myself up. Good as new.
Those fifteen minutes or so of shoelessness was nothing compared to others… but It was a small insight of how horrible some people have it.. I feel so lucky to have a house and warmth. Maybe that’s why I didn’t mind giving them up.
She had nothing and all I had to do was go home.
I could have even taken a taxi.
She’s probably still sitting in the station and will continue to do so until it closes at midnight. That’s two minutes form now. £6 is enough to get something to eat… or stay at the YMCA overnight.
I’m not being proud.. But I feel good. It was fifteen minutes for me.. But had a much larger impact for her.
I like helping people, even if it’s for my own selfish reasons.

I don’t want praise or anything.. I just wanted to share.