My wife and I live together. In a relatively small apartment. The number of rooms is twice the number of inhabitants. Do not be shorter.

We have electricity, sewerage, water supply and steam heating. High-speed wireless internet, dishwasher and washing machine. There are refrigerators and televisions, computers and phones, beds, sofas, clothes, shoes, dishes and other furniture with steam engines. And not that we are unrealistic riches, but the needs of special in nothing - we do not tolerate.
We did not steal it, but bought it for honestly earned money.
And we live as we like, and, gently speaking, not a lot of people fit into our lives. We prefer as closed as possible in the matter of privacy and personal space. My wife and I are not in solidarity.

But purely theoretically, in one of the empty rooms, we could settle homeless people living near garbage tanks. Well what? On the street it is cold, almost winter, people eat the hell knows what, drink from the bubbles some kind of poison, and we - warm and full of food refrigerator. It is unfair, probably.

And in the second empty room - we can easily place a large family with a heavily drinking feeder and an unclean feeder. A family that is about to be expelled to the frost for years of ignoring the payment of utilities.
Children are not guilty that their parents only do what they do and don’t pay their bills. Well, there is such a great hobby for people - to make new people. And accounts at the same time - extremely irritating and distracting from the process.
I understand. They need to be warm. There is a place. We only go into that room once a week when we clean up.

You can still set up a couple of students from the village on the kitchen sofa, and in the warehouse - to set up a shelter for wandering dogs and cats.
And to the toilet to let my aunt sickle out of the newspaper kiosk. Let it come in, and what? She sits there all day, without a toilet, poor. We are not sorry.

Then we will empty the refrigerator. Someone throws some shit into the toilet, and he gets killed. A washing machine is broken, a TV and a laptop are missing. Someone will bite all the furniture and scratch the wallpaper. Guests will go to the new tenants so often that the entrance door will stop closing in principle. Half of the bulbs will burn, it will smell bad and one of the steam heating batteries will inevitably run out. The neighbors will be overwhelmed and legal proceedings will begin.

My wife and I will become nervous and upset, poorly washed, minted and untouched. With great caution we will go to the kitchen, and in general to the apartment, and one day we will find in our bed drunk Nikolai of Ryazan, who came either to the students or to the many children bombs.
One of us will have a dog. I didn’t know she had dogs. Someone will have worms. Pediculosis will become our usual word.

Then they will just beat us. No matter what. For refusing to give money or for looking at someone wrong. Or just get kicked out of the house. Or at least they will be cut off. Very even easy. Chick, and you are in heaven.
Who needs refugees?