As told by my friend:
I have been travelling to and from work in the West End of London for
the past fifty years. Most of my trips are by tube and on this occasion -
at the time this story took place - was no different.
I am a regular traveller and on that day, halfway through my return trip
from work, the train stopped in Euston Underground station. The usual two
minute stop turned into four minutes and before long, an announcement was heard
over the public system to the effect that due to a fault on the rails, this
train will be staying put for at least an hour - if not longer.
It was a Friday afternoon, around Purim time, when the days are not
too short but also not too long either, and I therefore decided to travel home
by bus, so to arrive home with plenty time for my Shabbos preparations.
As I was traversing the main concourse in Euston British Rail Station,
my eyes caught a small group of perhaps three Bochurim who were gesticulating
to the cashier at the ticket office. When I stopped to ascertain if they
are in trouble, they noticed me and - visibly elated - approached me.
What they were telling me made me cringe and smile at the same time, for they
had been trying to convince the clerk to accept Charity Vouchers in lieu of
payment for their fare to Manchester.
They insisted that they have no money on them except these vouchers and
begged me to exchange them for "real" money. I complied with
their request and one of the boys - they must have been aged between 15 to 16
years old - went over to the ticket office to finalise their purchase.
It was already afternoon and I tried to explain to them that they better
hurry up as in order to reach their destination they would need to depart
pretty soon. They agreed and started walking towards the platforms, when I
stopped them in their tracks and asked them to explain to me how on earth did
they expect to arrive in Manchester without money and at such a late
hour?! They answered "HaKadoh Baruch Hu Ozer"....
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