My Friend Simon

Updated: Aug 31, 2021

In a corner just a few steps away from a London tube station, surrounded by tons of newspapers he likes to read, with half his life in two suitcases and a bunch of plastic bags as pillow lives Simon. A good guy, a funny accent, small glasses and loads of stories to tell if you only stop and say: ‘hello’!

You find him there alone, sitting on his stuff, pen and paper in his hands, writing down his thoughts to pass the time. He’s always very kind and smiley and talking to him is pretty much like being hit by a storm of words. I usually meet him on Saturday afternoon when, equipped with sandwiches and drinks, I reach the homeless down the streets of London, with my friends from Sant'Egidio.

When we arrive at his ‘place’, he stops whatever he’s doing to greet us and grab his apple juice - we know what drinks he likes now - and his goodie bag. But food is definitely not the reason why he comes forward: it’s rather the friendship we built with him.

We spend some time chatting: he can start talking about music and ends with politics or football, I don’t even remember how we ended up singing together once but now I do know that there’s always a song to sing with him.