The hunger and the punch.


Got pulled into a very cinematic episode today. Was walking down the street when I noticed a homeless Rumanian woman with her three small children. My eyes locked onto her desperate gaze. ” Please help us. We need to eat.” she pleaded. I gave her all the Euro change I had in my pocket. It wasn’t very much. I avoided her eyes, because I wanted to avoid her pain. I quickly moved along, against the chilly Berlin air. Suddenly her son, who could not be more than four years old, ran up to me and literally latched onto me, as if I was his long lost father. His tiny right shoulder was practically hooked onto my left hip bone. I felt his hunger and his determination. This little guy’s persistence knew no end. He continued to walk right along side me for the seemingly endless block. ” Please give us more sir. Please give us more. We need more sir.” That’s when the circle of my inner conflict began. I began to feel that he was my long lost son. My body trembled with vulnerability, and my soul thread felt empty, because I do not have a son of my own, and I felt that this boy knew this. Our intuits were intertwined. I stopped on the corner and the boy asked again. ” Please sir, we need more money. We need to eat.” ” I have no more money to give you”, I explained. Then, suddenly he clenched his fist and punched me as hard as he could in my stomach. It didn’t hurt, but I was shocked by his fury. The punch was probably meant for his real father who abandondned him. The boy ran back to his mother who high fived him and approvingly patted him on the head. As I turned to cross the street, a Russian woman who saw what happened said , in a very scolding tone. ” You must give off a cold vibe to these gypsies. They think they are the ancient people, and they think we owe them something. We owe them nothing. You must give off a cold vibe on these streets.” The light was green but I just stood there, because for the first time in years I felt my loneliness envelope me. I buttoned my jacket up and looked up at the cold grey sky. That little boys’ punch awakened me.


2 thoughts on “The hunger and the punch.

  1. Pingback: The hunger and the punch. | Alex C. Muñoz

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