By Teresa Sfeir
The boy seemed to be no more than twelve the first time he tapped on my car window and asked for money as I waited at an intersection. The children standing next to him were even younger. The memory is almost amusing—and you might be wondering what amusement can be found in so gray a picture. It was in how a friendship had formed between us and how that boy’s countenance had changed from a dehumanized dejection to a playful familiarity with each time he tapped on my window. At some point, I stopped seeing him around, yet the sight of child beggars has always been part of Beirut.
There is an ongoing debate about whether one must heed the pleas of these street children as they beg for money. Some say the money would simply go to the trafficking ringleaders. Some say they would rather give money to the children and save them from the harsh punishment awaiting them at the end of the day if they return with “low earnings.”