Carl O’Brien: Dublin Simon

Carl O’Brien pictured on the Simon community soup run during their nightly soup run aroud Dublin City Centre.Photograph: Aidan Crawley

It’s a dark, wet evening as the wind whips up along the Liffey. It’s the kind of wintry night best spent superglued to the sofa or, better still, propped up in a cosy bar.

Except I'm here on the Ha'penny Bridge on my first night with the Dublin Simon soup run, trying to keep warm and make myself useful.

It’s a service, staffed entirely by part-time volunteers, that runs 365 nights a year, delivering hot drinks, sandwiches and spare clothes to the city’s rough sleepers and homeless.

Tonight, I’m with Liz, a therapist, and Julian, a Google employee, as we tramp around the Temple Bar area of the city carrying bags bulging with supplies.

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I had a notion that volunteers would be dewey-eyed do-gooders, blessed with super-sized supplies of compassion and empathy. And, yes, they’re committed and caring. But they’re also streetwise, well-trained and able to handle a situation if it arises.

The city’s homeless population is growing. It doesn’t take long before we find many of them, lining bridges and doorways. Everyone gladly takes a cup of soup or a sandwich. Some offer a few terse words of thanks. For others, their eyes light up at the chance for a chat.

Mark is one of them. He’s sheltering by Merchants Arch, wrapped in layers of jumpers and coats. He’s been homeless on-and-off for the past decade. There was once a promising career as a sound engineer, he says. But a combination of drugs, a personal tragedy and mental health problems tripped him up.

“You feel invisible on the street,” he says. “You don’t speak to people, really. People don’t see you . . . to have someone stop and ask how you are? It means a lot.”

It’s a reminder that giving money or signing up to a direct debit is one thing. But simple human contact and spending time with people is priceless.

By nightfall, the bags are empty. We've helped feed 11 people in all. It could easily feel dispiriting. Given the scale of our homeless problem, it may well be a small drop in a vast ocean. But, tonight at least, it feels like I've helped to make a small but significant difference.
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