By Andrew Klein

In Melbourne, Victoria, we have a large market. It is called the Victoria Market, centrally located and open on most days. It offers food, clothing and the usual variety of things found at such venues. It also has an interesting history in its own right, and for many homeless people it provides shelter from the cold and wet nights that are not so unusual for Melbourne.

It is also a place where, at times, homeless people will gather after the market is closed to re-kindle friendships and to socialise. Often they support one another in ways that could be envied by us more ‘ordinary’ folk and ‘sharing’ is one thing that they are good at. I am not singing the praises of homelessness, for it is a hard life and demands resilience from those often finding themselves in that position without having some ‘blameworthy’ cause attached to them.

But I digress.

Finding myself at a loose end one afternoon in the recent past I made my way around that part of Melbourne to see what changes had occurred. Melbourne seems to be changing continually; new buildings arising from the past, buildings of significance lost and replaced with the latest in apartment-style living and accommodation.

So there I was, standing in Victoria Street within easy walking distance from the gardens. It was late afternoon, traffic was crawling along and people of all sorts were making their way home or maybe visiting other venues. I can only speculate as to the many places that occupied the myriad of drivers and others at this time.

Suddenly a Yellow Cab taxi pulled in right next to me. I know that I had not flagged a taxi down and there was no one else in the vicinity. Being the curious me that I am I waited and watched.

A gentleman, now politely referred to as of being of ‘Middle Eastern’ extraction got out from behind the driver’s seat and quickly made his way to the rear of the taxi, opening the boot. From there appeared a much loved prayer carpet, which he handled with great care.

We saw each other, and he noticed me looking at his carpet. We smiled at one another and with open hands gave each other universally accepted signs of peace and welcome.

He then moved onto the footpath, unrolled his mat and making sure that he was facing the appropriate direction looked at me again. I smiled, gave him the thumbs up and positioned myself in such a way that he knew that I was watching both him, his taxi and all other passing traffic and passers-by. It was no big deal, he prayed as he would have in his home. There was no threat, no fear in the air.

He spent some time at his devotions, oblivious to the comings and goings of the world. For those minutes there was peace and harmony in one little place on one tiny planet.

Having finished his prayers, whilst still on his knees, he carefully rolled up his carpet and looked at me again, smiling. Smiles being contagious, I smiled back.

In an untroubled routine probably acquired over some period of time he returned the carpet to its own little haven of the car. He turned to me, and without saying a single word he gave me a ‘thumbs up’ in return.

Now it may be in the interest of some to plant hatred and fear among ordinary people, to create a division among us that does not exist.

I rather stand guard over a brother human being at prayer than buy into that fear and loathing. Though not required to guard anyone that night, sharing that moment with another human being was precious enough.