No artificial distinctions
I grew up in a large port city, with more than its share of the social problems common to most big cities. I have a snatch of memory of a young woman in Salvation Army uniform, wrapped against the cold of an English winter, moving quietly in the dark evening through the pubs and taverns of the dockland to seek out the working men who would dig in their pockets for loose change. I seem to remember that she did somewhat better when asking for donations from the slightly inebriated.

