On a nearly empty F train car hours after the morning rush, a handful of people were scattered throughout, immersed in magazines, iPods or their own thoughts when a sad song filled the train car. The singer, a stout woman with beads of sweat running down her forehead held a small piece of white cardboard that read: “I — have 3 kids. I — don’t have work. Please help.”
“This song is for my family,” explained Aphrodita Chiciou, a Romanian immigrant with a deep, raspy voice. “For pay the bills, electricity I pay everything.” Chiciou is one of among hundreds of panhandlers and peddlers that rely on generous straphangers to get by. She said she makes between $50 and $60 a day.
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