Holocaust Memorial Day

My final leg on the long trip home was to spend a 3 hour shift on Westminster Bridge this morning, completing the final element of the "humanity is in our hands" project to commemorate Holocaust Memorial Day.

For 12 hours today, the artist Clare Twomey and her merry band of glamorous (?!) assistants will be giving away pieces of art to anybody who wants one.

There were a mixed bag of experiences to be had in trying to give things to complete strangers. It's actually surprisingly difficult to give things away. Some people seemed very suspicious about what the catch might be. Some people are too busy. Some people knew about the event and had come especially. Some were just keen to know what we were doing.

A woman who had no idea that this was happening today asked me to explain what it was about. When I did, she started to cry. She'd just been to visit a friend's daughter, who's mother had been in a concentration camp. She said what the artist was doing was wonderful, and that she was deeply touched and honoured to be able to keep her gift. We hugged. There's something very touching and human about hugging a stranger.

A man who had read about the project in the paper came from outside of town especially, hoping to be able to take a spoon. He told me that he's German, and so feels especially honoured to be asked to take care of something made to commemorate Holocaust Memorial Day.

A homeless man accepted the gift of the spoon. He said he was embarrassed that he didn't realise the date, but that he struggles to keep track of times and days without a watch or a calendar (apparently this also causes issues with knowing when his food is out of date - he had some chicken that's best before the 30th, I assured him that would still be ok!). He used to be a potter, and was very interested in the processes used to make the spoons. He went to great lengths to assure me that regardless of his homelessness, he would be taking great care of his gift - it would be one of the few possessions he would keep with him.

Another woman told me that it was her birthday, and that she'd initially been a bit downhearted that a Memorial Day so touched with pain and suffering was on the same day as her birthday. But then a friend pointed out to her that she should be pleased, that her birthday marked the end of a period of suffering, and the beginning of something better. She said that she had no other connection to the holocaust, other than that she's human, but surely that is connection enough. I agreed. She said that her gift was her favourite birthday present.

If ever an example of what humanity is was to be experienced, it's sharing thoughts, experiences and feelings with other human beings - especially strangers. The work done for this project is beautiful, I'm really proud to have been a small part of it.

** if you'd like to know more about the project, visit www.hmd.org.uk/humanityisinourhands **