Rushing out of the gate for fear of being late, she saw him there. Sitting on the curb, head bent on the knees, he looked like any other beggar except for the backpack beside him. Grungy, short cut hair lengthened with the time spent on the streets, he wasn't looking up to beg from people passing. He just sat there, head bent. He wasn't moving, wasn't checking if his things are still beside him. He just sat.  Maybe he was just tired from walking. Maybe he was desperately hungry and sitting down is a good idea of letting the hunger pass. Or maybe he was praying. For food. For deliverance. For shelter. For his family if he has one. People passing kept looking at him, but then looked away immediately. The pity they felt for him wasn't enough to cause them to stop and give him money. It could be that uncomfortable as they feel towards a beggar, he certainly was no different from any other homeless people on the streets. He even looked way better. What with complete clothing and slippers. Yes, he was thin, but others looked like they haven't eaten a good solid meal for a week. Even sitting the way he was, they could see he's healthier than most.      She waited for a taxi as she stood a good six feet away but she kept glancing at him every now and then. She certainly pitied him. But she didn't do anything. He was actually the first beggar she saw sitting outside the gate. And it came as an uncomfortable surprise because of it. She wouldn't have had second thoughts of giving him coins if he looked up, but he didn't. He stayed exactly as he was when she went out. So she just stood and flagged taxis as they pass. She debated with herself whether or not to go to him, excuse herself and give him money. And she thought, “he's not even asking from the people around, how can I be sure he really is a beggar?” The question bugged her, but at the back of her mind she knew this man needed money. For however he's going to use it. She just knew he needed it.       As the approaching taxi slowed down and stopped, she made up her mind and followed what her heart was compelling her to do. Asking the driver to wait, she ran to him and tapped his elbow. He looked up then, and a pair of glazed, resigned eyes met hers. She offered him a bill. He just looked at it and back to her. The question and hope in his eyes were unmistakable. She nodded encouragingly and handed it to him. As he took it slowly, he only said one sincere word, “salamat”. She gave him a smile and ran back to the waiting taxi.           Informing the driver her destination, she looked at the rearview mirror and saw him there. Sitting on the curb, tightly clutching the bill, he was now staring straight ahead, unseeing yet somehow she knew he was already planning. And she was glad.