Learn by Google, Live by Gandhi

Waiting for a train to a next destination, I was sitting on a concrete bench, reading and listening to the commotion on the platform when a street girl sat down next to me. “Hamisha” she said, patting herself on the chest. She was possible 7 or 8 years old at most. Like most street children, she had either been abandoned or ran away to alleviate financial constraints on her family. We didn't have much in common to have a conversation and the language barrier was obviously a big hurdle.

Continuing my reading, I watched her from time to time. She was eating a packet of crisps, which someone obviously gave to her. I watched her move closer, staring at me, and her hand reaching out to touch me. She poked me with her little index finger and held out the packet of chips smiling and indicating that I should take some. I was humbled at the gesture of this small person, who has nothing and wanting to share the little she had to eat.
I politely declined, but let’s face it, shaking your head in India has no indication of a “No”. I took out the bag of nougat a friend of mine gave to me before I left, and shared the last 2 sweets with her. She smiled broadly saying “chocolate, chocolate, chocolate”. I couldn't even argue to convince her it was something else.

Hamisha tagged onto me instantly. Her eyes never left me. She followed me when I walked up and down the platform, sat down next to me, whenever I got tired of walking. I was amused at this child’s persistence, and saddened at the same time. What will happen to her? Where will she live? What will her future be?

A short while later an elderly lady appeared in front of me with her had cupped and stretched out. Wrinkles stretched across her sun-drenched skin. Years of hard life had taken its toll on this old woman. I generally have a firm belief that I do not give money to beggars. I ignored the hand.

What happened next was one of the defining moments of my life and a gesture I would never forget. Hamisha took out a crumpled 10 rupee note and placed in the cupped hands. The gesture of this child shook my very being. Here was someone, a child, not even a quarter of my age. She had virtually nothing and still gave what she had to someone with less. She had more compassion and love for others than what I could ever wish to have. Here I was, a westerner, with enough of everything, but I did not take the opportunity to help a person in need.

Hamisha stood up, smiled and waved goodbye. I wept...