On our way home from buying the ingredients for choroset Bodhi spotted a sweet young woman standing self consciously on the street corner holding up a tattered cardboard sign which asked for help. Her downturned eyes didn't register the six year old who had quickly hopped off his bike to hurry to her side, beaming a grin and bellowing, "HI!". He then dug into the cloth bag containing our recently purchased produce and held out a prime tangelo in his extended hand. She warmly accepted and he seemed to feel a little better about the painful fact that other people don't have a home like we do. Soon we were off again and as we neared the house I wondered if it was possible for someone's ears to actually bleed from a constant verbal onslaught.