It was about 6 pm. On the train from Hangzhou to Shanghai, all the carriages were crowded with people, even in the aisle. We had to elbow our way through the crowd to get some standing space. Seeing there was a little extra space at the end of a bench, for the 3 people sitting there were all kind of slim, I asked if I could sit by her. Without saying anything, she moved to make more room for me. Touched by her kindness, I said thank you, but don’t move, I would be content to have half of my buttocks seated.

The train began to move and inside the car few people were talking due to the stagnant air and uncomfortable limited space. Suddenly a pleasant sound of singing came greeting our ears. Many people opened their half-closed eyes and turned to where it came from. It was a mid-aged man on crutches with only one leg. Beautiful singing made a sharp contrast with his physical disability. A touch of sympathy rose in my heart.

“Ladies and gentlemen, big brothers and sisters, all my dear friends,” he abruptly stopped singing and began to deliver a speech.

“Welcome aboard! The train departed on time from Hangzhou and will be arriving at the next stop Jiaxing at about 7:30 pm. Here I wish everyone a safe and pleasant journey.” We were all surprised and wondered if he was working as assistant of the regular staff.

“I was an unlucky person,” he continued.

“I was forced to go to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. And I lost one of the legs in an accident, as you can see. My life changed ever since. How I wish I could lead a life as a normal person! I have an old mother at home to take care of. The little money I get from the government is far from enough.” Then he started to sing a song with a very sad melody. I was kind of moved by his life story. looking up, I found almost everybody were listening attentively and some even with their eyes moist.

Just at this moment, his singing trailed off. He turned a little and said, “Every big brother and every big sister, please give me your generous helping hand. It doesn’t matter how much you can give. Even one yuan will mean a lot to me. It is not the money but the thought behind it that counts.” Many people began to pull out their wallets, me included. He once again started to sing, this time a very emotional song, as he walked along. Coins or small bills like five yuan, two yuan, ten yuan were pouring into the palm of his hand.

When he was a little far from us, a girl, who was standing beside me, said he was on the train almost every time she took this train.

“Really? Are you sure the same person?”

“Yes, definitely I’m certain. And he got a big harvest each time.”

“With so many people in such a long train, he could make a fortune!” someone remarked.

“Some beggars made so much money by begging that they had a 3-story house built back home.” Another added.

All of sudden, I felt I was taken advantage of. My sympathy was unfairly used. What a professional beggar! I thought.

"Maybe we should consider it as a donation to charity. Disabled people like him have to be financially supported, anyway." I said as casually as I could.

"Being disabled is truly pathetic, after all." A man agreed.

Before I knew it, the train had covered half of the distance I had to travel. Time passes quickly when you have something to occupy yourself with. I stood up and said to the girl nearby, “I’ll be arriving soon; take my place, half of a seat, though.” Somehow I felt the train was not so crowded as before, and the air seemed not so stuffy, either.