Chicago is officially freezing.

The people of Chicago are officially freezing.

The homeless people of Chicago are officially frozen.

I saw a man huddling over an exhaust pipe of a truck that was waiting at a red light. He was shoving his socks, gloves, and hat over the pipe quickly and furiously, attempting to capture the heat and retain it long enough to receive in the briefest of relief from the bitter, dangerous cold. In between, he bathed his hands in the toxic fumes that were being emitted from the stalled vehicle, as the owners sat inside, oblivious and warmed by their constant, breathable heat.

I turned my head to check for the light–still red. So I continued to look on at the man coating himself with exhaust heat. My heart broke as he attempted to catch the dirty exhaust in his palms and splash the emission in his face. My trance was broken with a honk, and I reluctantly drove away, feeling oh-so helpless.

When we fitted homeless men and women for shoes, I met beautiful people with beautiful souls. A chipper man named Daryl with a soft, sweet (almost musical) voice and eyes that smiled. A shaggy man named Gustavo who was so worried about making me uncomfortable with the smell and looks of his feet that he refused a foot check until I reassured him that it was something I truly wanted to do. I clipped their nails. I heard their stories. I gave them new socks and shoes. They said thank you more times than many of us have said in our lifetimes. And then they left. Lucky for them, that night they had made the cut for a bed in the shelter, but many people pulled on their new, warm boots and went back outside to brave the cold, bitter night–weather that many of us would never tolerate.

Chicago is freezing. The people of Chicago are freezing. And I remain heart broken for the Daryls and Gustavos out there who are desperate for others to value their lives.

-Anonymous Rush Student