Many years ago when i was still a teenager (under 16) i had just run away from home and found myself on the streets of central London.
While walking around Soho to look for somewhere to sleep i was stopped by a gentleman who asked if i knew where a certain road was, having this knowledge i then walked him to road he was looking for and he turned around and said thankyou and gave me £5 (which meant i was able to get hot food that day).
This story has always stuck with me narly 20 years on.
Which brings me to the present, On my recnt visit to th centre of the greatest city on the planet i found myself crossing the road to avoid getting myslf in eye-to-eye contact with people begging and sleeping rough.
Am i less kind than the gentleman that helped me? Maybe, but i did feel ashamed of myself deffently.