‘The poor aren’t my business,’ said Scrooge.

In 1843 two charity workers approached Scrooge, a wealthy man.

I’ve brought Dickens’ story gently up to date.

‘At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute.’

‘Are there no childrens’ homes nor night shelters for the homeless?’ asked Scrooge.

‘Plenty of night shelters.’

‘And the food banks, are they still in operation?’

‘They are. I wish I could say they were not.’

‘Oh,’ said Scrooge. ‘From what you said at first I was afraid something had happened to stop them in their useful course.’

‘I don’t think you quite understand us, sir. A few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it is at Christmas time that want is most keenly felt and abundance rejoices. What can I put you down for?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You wish to be anonymous?’

‘I wish to be left alone. I support those establishments I have already mentioned. I regularly donate tins of beans - out of my own hard-earned cash, to the Trussell Trust,’ said Scrooge.

‘Go to a food bank? Some would rather die,’ said the charity worker.

‘If they would rather die they had better do it and decrease the surplus population. Besides. It isn’t my business.’

‘Isn’t it, Sir?’ asked the charity worker.

‘No,’ said Scrooge.

The charity workers walked away and Scrooge continued balancing his accounts.