The scorching sun of New York mercilessly beat down on Fifth Avenue, where Ethan, a 28-year-old young man with dishevelled hair and tattered clothes, sat on the sidewalk. His blue eyes, once vibrant, were now dull from exhaustion and hunger. The prominent ribs beneath his torn shirt revealed weeks of scarce food. Ethan watched the frantic hustle of people, feeling invisible in the midst of the crowd.

His stomach growled painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in more than two days. Just one more day, Ethan, you can do it. Someone will notice you today, he murmured to himself, trying to keep his hope alive.

Who am I kidding? No one looks twice at a beggar, he thought, his inner voice laden with bitterness. The hours dragged on slowly, and Ethan fought the temptation to rummage through nearby trash cans in search of leftover food. He had promised himself he wouldn’t sink to that level, but hunger was an unforgiving adversary.

His eyes involuntarily followed each person passing by with bags of food or cups of coffee. The aroma of a hot dog being sold on the corner tortured his senses, making his mouth water and his stomach protest even louder. Maybe I should try that shelter again.

No, I can’t. The last time. Ethan shuddered, leaving the thought unfinished.

Why did things have to come to this? I wish I hadn’t grown up like this. I wish I had had a family, a home. His mind wandered, painfully recalling the past.

As the afternoon wore on, Ethan’s despair grew. He watched other homeless people approach pedestrians, asking for spare change, but he couldn’t muster the courage to do the same. His pride, the last thing he had left, held him back.

An older man sitting not far away looked at Ethan with a mix of pity and understanding. Kids, sometimes things seem hopeless, but we survive, the man said, his voice hoarse from age and life on the streets. I know, but… Sometimes it feels like our life on the streets will never change.

We only have the few coins given by kind-hearted people, but we need more job opportunities, housing to get out of here, and healthy food on the table, Ethan replied, his voice trembling between hope and disbelief. Suddenly, as if the universe had heard his silent plea, a middle-aged woman stopped in front of Ethan. Without saying a word, she handed him a paper bag containing a warm sandwich.

The aroma of fresh bread and roasted meat filled his nostrils, making his stomach turn with anticipation. Ethan looked up at the woman, his eyes brimming with gratitude. Thank you, ma’am.

You have no idea how much this means to me, he said, his voice choked with emotion. The woman simply smiled gently and continued on her way, leaving Ethan in awe of that act of kindness. Maybe there is still kindness in this world.

Maybe I’m not completely alone, Ethan thought, feeling a spark of hope ignite in his chest. As Ethan prepared to savour the precious sandwich, his gaze caught two other men sitting nearby. Their thin faces and hungry eyes were a mirror of his own situation.

Without hesitation, Ethan divided the sandwich into three parts, offering them to his fellow sufferers. Hey guys, let’s share. No one should go hungry when we can help each other, he said, his voice hoarse but kind.

Across the street, two women were watching the scene. Olivia, a young woman with long brown hair and compassionate green eyes, felt her heart ache at the sight of the act of kindness. She took a step toward the sidewalk, determined to offer more help, when she felt a sharp tug on her arm.

Victoria, her stepmother, a middle-aged woman with harsh features and a cold stare, was holding her tightly. Don’t even think about it, Olivia. I won’t allow you to mingle with those people, Victoria hissed, her grey eyes sparking with anger.

But Victoria, they need help. How can we just ignore them, Olivia protested, her voice trembling with emotion and indignation. Victoria dragged Olivia away from the scene, her high heels echoing on the sidewalk as they approached a luxury store.

The contrast between the gleaming shop windows and the harsh reality of the street was striking. Olivia resisted, her eyes still fixed on Ethan and his companions. Victoria abruptly stopped, spinning on her heels to face her stepdaughter.

Her face was twisted into a mask of disgust and barely contained anger. Have you lost your mind, Olivia? These people are dangerous. They would probably use any money you gave them for drugs or alcohol, Victoria hissed, her tone cutting.

You don’t know that, Victoria. That man just shared the only meal he probably had today. How can you be so insensitive, Olivia retorted, her voice trembling with indignation.