It was just after 7am and I was walking through Woolloomooloo. I came around the corner and saw the man sprawled on the ground next to a park bench. He was in his 60s or 70s and had the look of someone who had lived on the streets for a long time. 

"Are you OK?" I kept saying it over and over. He was so blue.  The man's lips were as blue as the sky. His face was twisted in pain. His eyes were without life.

I wondered when someone had last cried for this dear man. Did he have a child? Were his parents still alive? I wished I knew a prayer, but all I had for him were my tears.

The police asked me some questions and got me to check the time of the call I made to 000. It was 7.07am. Life before 7.07am was different. I had been hurrying to work, worrying about a task I had to finish and an appointment later in the day to get a visa for a holiday. I was embarrassed by the trivial things that had been occupying my mind while a man lay dead on the ground.

I asked the police what the man's name was. They said it was Paul* and said that he was known in the area. They said he would often drink so much he would end up in hospital. They estimated he had been dead for hours.

This wasn't the first time I had seen a dead body. My little sister Holly died 18 years ago, when I was 13. My mum was by her side at the hospital bed when she died, holding her hand and stroking her face. My mum took comfort in the fact she was the one who guided her daughter into this world and out of it. I always remember the angelic and peaceful look on Holly's face.

Paul's death couldn't have been more different. He died on a cold night in the middle of winter on a park bench in Woolloomooloo. He died with no one by his side. No one was holding his hand or stroking his forehead. No one was whispering words of love when he took his last breath.

Dame Marie Bashir always says you can judge a city by the way it treats its poorest citizen. Well, Sydney, on Monday you failed. I spent Monday wandering around in a daze and wondering how I could make Paul's death mean something.

I borrow this call to action from Wayside Chapel chief executive and pastor Graham Long: "We are in a moment where good people must stand up and speak up. We need to assert again the dignity of the human person and insist our leaders turn a 'fair go' from an empty cliche to real, living policies. I urge you not just to be upset about the current trends, but to act. Do something lovely for someone. Let your words be more than noise in the air. Donate to ease the burden of someone who is sleeping rough or who has hit hard times. Let your vote of confidence in humanity move from your head to your heart and to your feet."

So, here I am, standing up and speaking out on behalf of Paul. May he rest in peace.