To many, a man sitting under the tormenting sun on a broken brick with a naked plate beside him is a beggar. To many, that man is a cheat. To many, that man is lazy. There are a thousand way to view this fellow, for sure and I know you have something to say too.

He might have wasted his time by making tens of thousands of youthful mistakes. He might not be lucky enough to be born with a metal spoon in his mouth. He must have wronged the future for him to be in that position. We all know, that no man is perfect. Certainly, there are other things about this man. He is a beggar, thanks to the onlookers. But, he is more than just a beggar, he is blind and frustrated. A blind man only hear the day, and feel the night. A blind man can only see imagination, he cannot enjoy the sweet songs from the weavers atop the tree.

He is also a friend, a friend scouting out solution for life’s struggle. Day in day out, he cried out for arms. Never is he discouraged if he was not given a penny, yet he prays for all passer-by, excluding no one.

He is a caring father, having the grace to take care of another man’s little daughter which serve as the core to the existence of his condemned life. He is a key, a key to giving hope to a dying man- the man who felt there was no way to survive despite his ability.

He is a neighbour, a neighbour wanting your help, seeking for a way to survive in this harsh world. His clock is fading away, his heart is becoming weaker. He had nowhere to tarry till the light go off. He had no one to ask, “How are you feeling?”

Many see with dirt in their eyes, some see with veil in front. Others see what others are seeing. My friend, how do you see?

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