Dear Daniel,
I always enjoy our brief conversations, usually about nothing in particular. Often on my way to work I come across you at the top of the stairs at the train station, sitting on a milk crate with your beloved dog, Percy. To be honest, the first time I stopped was because the escalator was out of service and I was puffed out by the effort it had taken to reach the surface from the subway below. ‘Take it easy, old man’, you advised me. I didn’t think I was so old, just unfit.
I came to learn that you are generous with advice. I bought The Big Issue from you and you insisted on giving me a dollar’s change from a 10 dollar note. ‘I don’t want you falling on tough times,’ you said, as Percy dozed on the collection of belongings that become your home most nights of the week.
I have always enjoyed The Big Issue, not just because of the colourful range of stories and experiences it shares with the world. It never seems to have an axe to grind in the way other publications do. To be honest, the less people go to church the more they seem to love delivering sermons to each other.
Maybe I am just being grumpy. You are good at calling out passers-by for that too. Once I heard you tell a gentleman in a fine suit and tie that life wasn’t so bad and he should relax his face by smiling once in a while. The man seemed affronted. I got the impression he was not used to taking advice from someone as indifferent to appearances as you. You have a peace tattoo on your face and a crucifix inked on your neck. They don’t look great, to be honest, but their message is wonderful.
One of the things I most enjoy about The Big Issue is that it is a social enterprise and that the vendor, always a person for whom life presents special challenges, gets to keep a good portion of the cover price. Near our office, the Anglican church has a coffee caravan that is used to fund a breakfast program and other outreach activities. The Big Issue, founded in London in 1991 by John Bird and Gordon Roddick, was an early example of this kind of thing. Roddick, along with his late wife Anita, was the co-founder of The Body Shop which supplied the money to get The Big Issue off the ground. It now publishes editions in many countries. Someone once pointed John Bird, now Baron Bird, out to me in the street when I was visiting London. He looked like part of the crowd but, now in his 70s, is still trying to raise awareness of the root causes of poverty.
Daniel, I enjoyed talking to you about the days when, as a teenager, I was a paper seller on our local train station. In those days, there were two afternoon papers and business was brisk. I could hardly get the change together fast enough. You replied that there was often a long time between your customers and the day could be slow. ‘I compose songs in my head and sing them to Percy. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ You told me that as a younger man, you had an office job in the area of IT. ‘I didn’t know a thing about computers so I got the sack. But the job was tedious. This is actually more interesting. I get to watch the passing parade.’
Does Daniel believe in God? ‘Why do you think I have Jesus on my neck?’ he replies, pointing to the image. ‘He was the most loving person that ever lived. It was love that gave him the right to talk about justice. Justice has to come from a place of love.’
Michael McGirr works for Caritas Australia.