This Christmas, as shoppers pass by with warm coats and full bags, others sleep rough on Cork’s cold streets.

Sarah Roberts shares a deeply personal story about childhood dreams that never came true, struggling through dark times, and the thin line between having a home and losing everything. It’s a powerful reminder that homelessness can happen to anyone – and that those sleeping rough tonight once had dreams too.

The Busker’s Song

‘A dream is a wish your heart makes’ resonated through the night sky just outside a beautifully lit Brown Thomas in Cork’s city centre.

The air had just enough crisp in it to force hands to mouths to keep them warm but regardless of this a busker held the gaze and the hearts of Christmas shoppers. They stopped to watch him as he weaved the haunting sounds of his violin like a ballroom dancer weaves her gown graciously across a marbled floor.

There are times in one’s life that a moment will be remembered forever and this will possibly be one of those moments. Somehow though, I suspect that for me it will not be remembered for the same reasons as those that stood holding hands and capturing these precious minutes on their phones.

I walked through the crowd listening to the acoustic version of this iconic song and I couldn’t help but feel a little mournful as my mind brought forward memories of my favourite Disney movie, Cinderella.

The Fairytale That Never Came

As a child I always dreamt that I would grow up to be one of these Disney Princesses, especially the ones that had had a difficult life and were ‘rescued’ from it.

If I am to be honest I didn’t just dream it, I believed this would be my future with every fibre of my body but one gets to an age when they realise that life isn’t exactly what these movies led us to believe.

I wasn’t whisked away from my ever-increasing troubles by a handsome Prince. No, instead I grew up to become a different kind of Disney Princess – one that was disillusioned and utterly broken by how cruel the world could actually be.

Finding Comfort in All the Wrong Places

When it dawned on me that the fairytale I had been waiting for was never going to turn up, that no Prince was going to come and rescue me, I took myself to the local off-licence. I discovered a certain kind of comfort here that patched the ever-increasing hole I found in my heart, and what became a relief I reached for every other night quickly became a habit that I partook in every night.

Relationships that were already strained grew into situations that were too dangerous for me to stay in and at times I had to make the difficult decision to live in my car.

I often saved myself from this way of living by hopping from one toxic relationship to the next but I quickly burnt myself out and had to return to my family home.

This situation, at times, was no better but it was somewhat better than what I had been used to.

After some years of tribulations I found a different path but always on the edge of my mind is how close I was to finding myself in a situation that I might never have been able to get myself out of.

A Reminder of How Close I Came

I freed myself from the childhood memories brought forward by this stranger and his violin and found myself in the bus station on Parnell Place.

While here, I became very aware of how lucky I was to be standing there, fully dressed and warm. I had a few quid in my pocket and a home to go to. I would also have a warm meal on the table, hand cooked by my husband, a man that would risk life and limb to make sure that I never need suffer again.

This appreciation, which I often forget, was brought to me by a gentleman walking through the bus shelter. His face was lowered, head covered by a hood and his demeanour carried an air of hopelessness.

As he cleared himself from the queues of people I saw that he had a blue sleeping bag, soaked through, trailing behind him on the ground. He tried to catch the attention of some people as he walked through the crowd but he was ignored by all.

He cleared himself through the barrier then nestled himself next to the brightly lit bus station sheltered by a canopy and as he lay on the cold concrete tiles, on his sodden blanket, he began to talk to no-one.

The Dream That You Wish

As I watched, I wondered which Disney movies were his favourite when he was a small boy growing up and what had happened in his life that brought him to this situation.

I considered the thought that perhaps both him and I had been waiting for the exact same fairy godmother, the one that never turned up. I then wondered if he still dreamt or if he had given up on dreams completely and why was it that he was in this situation and not me?

As my bus arrived I found my mind back outside Brown Thomas listening to the haunting sounds of the violin and as I looked back to the man that I may never see again I remembered the rest of the song and a tear fell down my face… ‘have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true’.