Her cheeks are always ruddy

I'm thinking about the woman who is always on the corner of Michigan and Randolph for the evening rush hour. She's solemn, pink-cheeked, and holds a sign that says, "I'm not a bad girl. I made bad choices."

Since I changed health clubs, I know longer see "my" McDonald's Man, the homeless gentleman with terrible eyesight I always passed en route. He always said, "Thank you for your blessings" whenever I dropped coins in his cup.

So instead I give my few cents a day to her. Whereas his graciousness always touched my heart, so does her terrible dignity. This has been a hot, uncomfortable summer and she's been there every day, holding that sign in which she owns up to her shortcomings. I wonder what her life is like, and how she got here.