Yesterday, when I was going home and about to take my ride, I saw this child, mistreated by the injustice of the world. He was shirt less and walks in bare foot. I observed him clearly at what he was doing - asking alms. He stretched out his hands to every person in the line after me, but no one responded to his plea. Then he turned to me and asked for something, a single penny perhaps, yet I was just the same as the rest - I turned him down and did not responded to his plea. Then after awhile the thought that our professor had given me another chance struck me, "Why couldn't I be compassionate enough, as what our professor had shown to me? Why did I became too selfish, and not considered the fact that it's just a single penny his asking for?" After awhile I started fixing myself and came up to a solution of considering him, yet I presumed it was too late. The child was advised to move out of sight by someone, and from then on I carried this guilt inside my heart, for its a child's cry that i hadn't responded to. And maybe perhaps it would take long before this guilt would subside - maybe months or perhaps years until i learned how to give something and ask nothing in return.