Falling asleep the other night to heavy rain was a welcome relief after a few hot weeks. Then I met Beth, a 34 year old woman who had slept outside the Melbourne aquarium that same night. Homeless, 6 weeks pregnant and the victim of domestic violence, she had flown into Melbourne from Perth after her partner had punched her in the face and knocked her two front teeth out. ‘Why Melbourne?’ I asked. ‘It is the only place he won’t find me,’ she responded. She continued, tears streaming down her bruised face –‘I slept in a hostel the first night I arrived in Melbourne. That same night I had my bag stolen, along with my ID, wallet and debit card. From that night onwards, the area outside the aquarium became my home.’
The morning of the day we met, she explained to me that it had taken her 2 hours to gain enough courage to ask strangers for spare change. She told me that she had not showered since she arrived in Melbourne, nor had she eaten a proper meal. One lady told her to take a shower. Another person told her to sell her body and accused her of ‘not being that desperate’ if she wasn’t willing. Her abusive partner – the reason she had fled Perth in the first place – had called incessantly, demanding that she tell him where she was. She refused but asked that he transfer some money into her bank account. This time he refused.
I overheard Beth’s story while travelling on a train. Funnily enough I was writing a few notes for a speech about ‘how to be the change the world needs to see’ and suddenly I was put to the best with a real-life situation of someone needing serious help in front of me. She had written a list of women’s safe houses on a serviette and was calling them one by one on her battered phone, simply requesting a bed for the night. The only problem was that she was $20 short.
I knew I had to something. My body told me so – I felt the lump in my throat develop, the one that forms when I am stressed, anxious or frustrated with myself or a situation. Tears began to well inside, although they were not yet visible to Beth or my fellow commuters. I’ll turn around and ask her what I can do – next stop, I said to myself. The next thought entered my mind – If she is still on the train by the time it reaches Caulfield, I will do this. STOP thinking. AND BLOODY ACT – be the change the world needs to see, I reminded myself angrily.
And so I did act. Leaning over, I asked her whether she was ok (clearly a stupid question – she was obviously distressed!) She told me her whole story, a flurry of events, circumstances and experiences that I had only just overhead moments earlier. A storm began – lightning, thunder, the works – and she only became increasingly emotional, convinced that she would be spending yet another night on Melbourne’s streets battling the torrential rain. I invited her to follow me to Parliament Station where I was getting off and I bought her a cheese and egg sandwich. But that was only going to help her short-term. What about a bed tonight? She had to inform one of the safe houses if she was going to sleep there within the hour – and there was no way she was going to be able to unless she was able to obtain $20 through begging. Nor she have to – no doubt most people that heard her on train had a spare $20 in their wallet. I had $50 cash left in my wallet. ‘Beth…’ I began. ‘Call up the safe house now, I’ve got the money you need.’
I will never forget the look on Beth’s face. She called the safe house and confirmed with them that she would be arriving in the next hour. She wanted to know how she could repay me – and I laughed. ‘beth, you owe me nothing. Whatever you do, just believe you can start again.’
I only wish I could have done more for Beth.
When I left my part-time job at Kenny’s Cardiology gift shop two and a half years ago, I never I would find myself back in retail over this coming Christmas period. But that is exactly where I have found myself, having just started working at an ethical gift shop over Christmas called ISHKA. It is a store that celebrates the fact that your dollar can have a positive impact on the world. Like me, Beth, the lady I met on train, was surprised by the situation she found herself in. But my situation certainly was not a matter of life and death – my desire to work in retail over Christmas was simply to earn a little bit of extra money over the Christmas period. But her situation is a little different. Beth shared with me that she had plans of helping the homeless over Christmas. She never thought she would be one of them.
