At 4.17am December 8, I lifted my head from my backpack and from under the small umbrella I had propped up to keep off the rain.
I was not sure whether I had slept at all on the surface of Trafalgar Square, but it felt like I hadn’t. Someone had kindly offered to bring me a tea.
So, I wriggled out of my survivor bag and sipped. I got up and went to a tent where I could chat to others.
On Saturday night I had been part of the World’s Big Sleep Out, an event that saw at least 50,000 people sleep rough on the same night in cities across the world in solidarity with those who are homeless.
I was part of a group of faith leaders brought together by Faith Forums for London — and so I experienced the wet and cold of a December night in London with Rabbi Hershel Gluck and Canon Anthony Ball of Westminster Abbey, among others.
This was, in fact, the first World’s Big Sleep Out, with simultaneous events in Edinburgh, New York, Los Angeles, and many other cities. The event was not meant to give you an experience of homelessness, which itself would run the risk of tokenism. But there was much good feeling around, and an atmosphere of kindness.
And so, walking to the drinks tent to pour a coffee or hot chocolate, there were plenty of people to chat to who could not sleep or who were drying off from the rain. It certainly made you reflect on survival strategies.
It also felt good to be there on Saturday night in Trafalgar Square, as a Jew and as a rabbi. My community, Muswell Hill Synagogue, was so supportive of what I did, and I am so appreciative to them for that.
Several members donated to the World’s Sleep Out, allowing me to raise over £500, and many posted good luck messages on Facebook. I am so proud also that at Muswell Hill we will be running in January our Winter Night shelter for the third year in a row.
The Jewish value of tzedakah, charity, is deeply connected with regaining dignity. It is that dignity that is so often lost by those who sleep rough.
When I returned home at 6am after a broken night, I was of course happy. But first I passed through Charing Cross Station, where at least 20 individuals were sleeping rough. All people. All with stories and reasons why they are where they are.
The stark contrast between the anchored life that most of us have, and the lack of hope those living rough have was painful.
It filled me with a desire to continue ensuring that the Jewish community has the chance to do its bit to help those who are homeless.
