While driving our child of privilege to his school in downtown Seattle I am often left with the breakfast sandwich his mom makes for him that he doesn’t want, and that sandwich sometimes goes to someone who looks like they need food. One day last month a potential sandwich recipient was on the sidewalk near the QFC supermarket and appeared to be in relatively bad shape - barefoot, surrounded by trash, ranting and raving, that sort of thing. I gave him two bacon egg and cheese sandwiches wrapped in foil and still hot. When I looked in his eyes there was nothing - they were sunk as far into his head as possible for a person who is still alive. A victim of some combination of being discarded by our cruel society, drugs and mental illness. He resembled Jesus - like many 30-something guys with long hair and scraggly beards. When I came out of the supermarket and drove away I could see him enjoying the sandwiches.