I answered the ring of my doorbell and opened the door to the caller.
It was a grey-haired man, around 70 or more years of age, frail, freezing cold and obviously exhausted.
He was selling notepads and coloured pens to raise money for an ex-servicemen's charity.
My heart went out to this old soldier who had once offered his life to defend his country which now, in his years of need, seems to have forgotten him.
I bought the notepaper and pens and gave him a little extra. I am disabled and I could not afford to give him much more as my disability allowance has to go a long way, especially at this time of the year.
When I returned to my front room and the old soldier had trundled off to the next house, I wondered what sort of a country we have become when we can neglect our old yet offer so much to the influx of refugees who come here and are given the warmth and comfort we deny those who gave their all.
I am not against people coming here from war-torn countries but are we helping when young people - who are the future of those countries -are not there to rebuild and resurrect a life from the ruins?
I am not thinking of Christmas any more. I am thinking of that old soldier and all those like him who walk the streets to raise a little extra for our forgotten heroes.
-R Muzzall, Plaistow Close, Brighton
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