Closing our heart to suffering suppresses our humanity, writes Ruby Diamonde.
It’s a pitiful sight: a woman sitting on the ground, filthy dress ripped wide open exposing her chest, staring ahead with blank eyes. She looks like she’s eating dirt. We are driving right past her in my car.
‘Isn’t there anything we can do?’ I ask my friend Barbara. It’s not the first time I’ve seen half-naked vagrant women on the streets, but she looks so very young, this road is isolated and she’s horribly vulnerable.
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