Javier wandered through Saint Dennis, making his way towards the general store for some supplies to clean his guitar.

There were a lot of beggars, he knew it. But he ignored it. — He’d better save his money. Is what he thought.

Until he saw you, a child. Playing your violin, hoping to earn some money. — The mexican’s heart ached. And quickly forgot his rule of not donating.

He threw a few bucks into the hat you had placed in front of you. Greeting you with a dip of his head.