Tears of a child...

Earlier this week I walked along the beach with a friend, after work.
Half way down the beach we passed a child, going the opposite way.
Tears streaming down his cheeks.
He was about 8 years old.
I turned around and looked at him, but kept walking.
As we passed him, I felt as if I should go back, but didn’t.
I remember feeling sorry, guilty, that I didn’t stop to help.
It wasn’t until later that the child (happened) to pass us again.
I was almost relieved to see him.
This time I wasn’t going to let him walk on.
I stopped him.
We exchanged words.
He was still crying.
Someone had stolen his money.
He was on his way home.
He was afraid that his aunty was going to beat him.
I’m almost ashamed to say I wondered if he was telling the truth.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone tries to get money out of an expat.
But the tears were real.
This seemed genuine.
The tears of a child cannot easily be ignored.
Although I suppose I did ignore it at first.
In the end I helped him out, it wasn’t much, but it was something.
I realized again how easy it is to walk on and ignore the reality of life.
To mind my own business and let others sort things out for themselves.
I felt once again the heartbreaking reality of the cruelty towards children.
People steal from them.
Beat them.
Ignore them.
Unfortunately that is the world we live in.
All I can do is reach out where I can.
And stop ignoring.