So many times, we see them, but not really “see” them.We notice them schlepping a shopping cart crammed with all their worldly possessions in the small metal frames.We espy them at a busy intersection holding signs that announce their mendicant status.So often, we pass by them at a public park or parking lot, their hand-held signs serving as their mute plea for help. And more often, we pass them by with just a cursory glance or a millisecond of attention – if that.There are also the less conspicuous of them who call their car a home, but nonetheless in the same dire straits.I often find myself wondering who these people are, whether they have families somewhere, what special talents they have, their educational accomplishments, careers they pursued at one time, who are the people they know or have known, and who know them or have known them as a neighbor or friend. Recently, I met one who, until a few weeks ago, was homeless and living in her car.