and the beggers are now dead to me

So, my level of compassion took a blow on Saturday night. While enjoying a lovely dinner with friends, sipping some wine and chatting, a man claiming (via a sign) to need help, etc. approached our table only to then swipe my cell phone away. Oh well, I’d like to think that one incident wouldn’t embitter, but it did. Now, nothing. Compassion lost is a sad state of affairs — something a better person may be able to overcome, but I make no claims to be that person.

And yes, I know it is a material object. Yet, this little cell phone of mine had messages from friends that I cherished. Nothing like reading some of the particularly great ones when having a bad moment. It was a way for me (the girl with no memory) to revisit a time, a situation, and the communication. So, sure, a cell phone easily (ha, for those with money) replaced. But also small snippets of the past. Lost, along with some compassion.

But it’s late now, so off to bed.

One response to “and the beggers are now dead to me

  1. That fake begger/ real thief also made me angry! He took away the comfort of knowing that you are a phone signal away. I have been so out of sorts thinking that you could not dial for help in case of a street emergency, call me if you were sad, call a friend to plan a fun evening or just chat for the fun of it. We will all send you new messages to hear. Also I worried about the fact everyones number was stored on the phone. What did we do in the dark ages? I am lost without mine.

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