Dear Diary:
Bundled against the 27-degree weather, I was standing on the downtown No. 4 train in mid-December about 12:30 p.m. headed to a meeting on Broad Street. As we pulled into 14th Street, a poster on my left with the image of a skier on a chairlift caught my eye. The ad’s tag line, “What will you think about when you don’t have to think about money?†was offered by the New York State Lottery.
The crowd hustled to exit the door ahead of me, and I looked up to see two men, apparently asleep, sprawled across from each other in the short seats at the front of the car. Black and white plastic bags with belongings were under their feet and arms, hung from the handrail above. They wore heavy work boots. Their heads were covered â€" one with a sheet, the other with a jacket â€" providing a semblance of nighttime.
Behind me came a voice entering the rear door: “Folks, I have sandwiches and drinks for the homeless here. If you need something to eat, help yourself. If you can, please make a donation.†Nearly everyone put something in his canister as he walked forward, pulling a cart with neatly wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water.
He made his way to the sleeping riders and, bending down, said in a friendly voice: “Hey fellas, how are you today? Care for some sandwiches?†No response. No movement.
The car was completely quiet, heads down. The man with the sandwich cart got off at City Hall.
Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via email diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.
