Railway Children: 'Scots stunned the charity with their generosity'

It’s the message we hear almost every time we’re on a train but, I’m sure all of us would admit, rarely do we have our eyes peeled for someone who looks afraid, someone who could be under threat or someone in a vulnerable situation.

A large group of us gathered on the chilly station floor of Glasgow Central last week to raise awareness of young people who are drawn to the railway network for all the wrong reasons: those who have run away from home because of domestic violence or abuse; those that have been neglected and end up being exploited or dragged into transporting money or drugs; or those that are just lost, hopping from service to service in the dark of night.

And we were all the while raising money for Railway Children, a charity which aims to get to vulnerable kids before an abuser can and take them away from what can so often become a sinister or deadly situation.

READ MORE: Charity helping vulnerable children on the railways looks to launch in Glasgow

With forecasts suggesting temperatures could fall to well below freezing, we arrived in more than just a duffle coat, laid down cardboard and camping mats, slipped into our sleeping bags and prepared for what would be a tough night.

As someone who so often fails to dress correctly for the weather, I was initially surprised by how warm I felt. I must have made a good call on this occasion.

Inevitably, the mercury did keep dropping throughout the night and at around 3am, it was impossible not be distracted by the icy air against your face.

None of us got very much shut-eye; a couple of hours at best was the general consensus. The railway really does never sleep. Even after the final service bound for Ayr went on its way, staff were out putting up promotional signs in noisy cherry pickers well into the early hours and there was always something going on and the lights never went out.

However, even as someone who hates sleeping bags and avoids camping at all costs, I’m not going to dress this up as if it was the worst night of my life.

We all got a tiny taste of what it might be like for someone who had no choice but to sleep rough in a station, but in reality, this was nothing compared to what many face day in, day out.

As we all hunkered down under the famous station clock, what struck me most was how visible we were. You couldn’t ignore the sight of us even if you were belting through the concourse for the last train home.

Dozens of people gathered around us interested to know what we were doing and why while listening to fantastic live music which was put on for us.

Donations poured in as the final services departed, with Railway Children event staff left stunned by the generosity of Glaswegians.

We were given free hot drinks and baguettes and, at times, it felt like we were actually having fun as everyone joined in with renditions of Deacon Blue’s Dignity and Don McLean’s American Pie. We had smartphones, books, toilets, and money in our pockets to go and buy things if we so wished.

And we had each other. If you couldn’t sleep, there was more than likely someone else to chat to and, if not, at least we knew this wasn’t forever and we would all be going back to warm homes in just a few hours.

Although it was cold, and we weren’t comfortable, we had pretty much everything a young person scared and alone on the railway would not have and this was not lost on anyone.

I might have been a bit worried someone would nab my iPhone, but it never once crossed my mind in our sealed-off area with event staff on watch that my personal safety would be threatened.

We talked amongst ourselves about how lucky we were and some of us felt guilty people were paying us so much attention, but we knew we were doing a great thing, making a small sacrifice for an incredible cause.

Railway Children do fantastic work throughout the UK, India and Tanzania in East Africa, saving children who face hardship and unthinkable danger, and it was important we drew attention to the necessary help they provide.

We were visible, but we had to be. We needed to tell Glasgow the railway was not just a place for getting from one place to the other but is unfortunately, through no fault of its own, a place where abusers can take advantage of innocent young people and exploit them for personal gain.

We were visible, but we needed to do it for them, to fight for a future where no child is forced on to the streets or into inescapable terror.

We were visible to shine a light on the invisible.