Michigan Avenue

He was wrapped in a wool checkered blanket and lying on a vent in the middle of the sidewalk near Michigan Avenue. A few hundred yards away were the blue Chagall stained glass windows in the Art Institute, a majestic tribute to public arts and cities. It was eleven degrees.

But this scene on Monroe Street was more evocative of Chagall’s paintings of pogroms and the Holocaust . The cruelty that is endured by our most vulnerable. Like other pedestrians I carefully stepped around the silent figure, hurrying toward warmth. I imagined wakening the man under the pile of blankets, leading him to a Starbucks on the corner, buying him coffee and a morning donut, and listening to his story. He might tell me about a job loss, or an estranged daughter living in Atlanta raising a grandson who loves to fly kites.

Instead, I hurried past the Stone lions and into the lobby of the Art Institute, where I called 911 to report a homeless man lying on a sidewalk on Monroe Street.