This is a true story:
Every time I drink a glass of orange juice, I am taken back to Lahore in the early 80s, when I was a student there. I had gone to pick up someone from the bus station and had arrived early, so had a bit of free time. Feeling thirsty, I asked a rehri wala to make a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. He proceeded to make one, throwing the rinds into a heap by his rehri. As I was about to drink the juice, I noticed some movement down by the rehri and glanced down, expecting to find a dog to shoo away.
What did see? An old, frail woman, clothes in tatters, silver white hair all awry, picking up the rinds that made up the juice in my glass, trying to get the dirt off, and then suck the precious few drops left in them. I was so shocked and taken aback that I just could not bring myself to drink that juice.
I called out to her, and gave her my glass. She was at first surprised, but then accepted the glass. The rehri wala was upset at me for dirtying his glass by giving it to her. I shut him up by paying for the glass too, and giving whatever else I had left in my pocket to the poor woman. She only raised her hand once in gratitude, and slunk away. The bus came. I picked up my passenger, and went on with the rest of the day.
To this day, I cannot drink orange juice without remembering that poor woman, may Allah bless her soul eternally. Her image is still fresh in my mind like I saw her yesterday.
(I do not advertise what I still do to support the poor directly in Pakistan. But if anybody wants to have an idea, please see my flood relief donations for the last two years already in the public domain on PakWheels, as an example. I was ridiculed exactly the same as I am currently being here, but now I am regarded as a valued participant, both by the administration and by the members. One day I hope to replicate that acceptance here too if given half a chance.)
Thanks for sharing that story Mr Engineer. May Allah bless your soul eternally. Very moving.