On the Streets of Chicago

I was taking a walk on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, where all the posh shops are, last evening (Saturday). Most of the shops were closed already, but the lights were still bright and it felt safe. Nevertheless, I walked as close to the street and the traffic as possible, away from the dark corners.

At one point a tall, young black man approached me and started to say, “Mister, can I ask you a question ...” He spoke clearly and politely. But the sidewalk was narrowing, and I felt I could get cornered. I dared not answered, and hurriedly moved away.

I then noticed another black man shielding himself from the wind in one of the nooks between two shops. It was about 2 degrees Celsius at the time.

I couldn’t help noticing he was holding a baby and a plastic cup. I assumed he was begging, although the sidewalks were practically deserted, and he was just sitting still. The contrast between his desperation and the closed-but-brightly-lit, posh shop couldn’t be more brutal.

Jesus died for him too.