'Sir...'

A few weeks ago as I hurried along a road in the centre of Kampala, I spotted a lady standing on the pavement holding a young child. As I walked closer she caught my eye and said one word - 'Sir'. Her eyes appealed for me to understand far more than she could explain with her one word of english. I carried on walking. 'Sir, Sir'. I passed her & was suddenly aware of a little voice just beside me. 'Sir, Sir'. A girl in a pretty dress who looked about 7 was running along beside me. 'Sir, Sir, Sir.' I had a few 1000 shilling notes in my pocket, each worth about 30p to me, but worth everything to this girl, her mum and her little sister. The money I would spend this afternoon on a computer monitor was probably more than they could ever imagine owning. 'Sir, Sir, Sir' pleads the little voice. I try not to give money to people on the street in England as I know what it is likely to be spent on - but this isn't England. This doesn't happen there. What do I do here? Will the equivalent of a few pence 'help' in this one short story plucked from a library of need? Should I just focus on the things I have come to this country to do, believing that my small contribution can make a difference? 'Sir, Sir, Sir'. Unable to decide I keep on walking. As I come to the end of the pavement and walk across, the little voice fades away.