When I see you on the street, and we make eye contact, know that I see in you my husband...freezing outside on a CRV post...getting asked all kinds of questions from tourists in Times Square...wary, perhaps...hungry...feeling as if you're not seen at all.
When I see you dotting the landscape of Grand Central Terminal, know that I am happy to see you there...in the subways...at Penn Station...know that if I see you and smile, it might be the only encouragement I have to offer at that moment, but I see you.
Even if the Brass has not a clue, your family does...and we appreciate you in a way the public never can.
Even if we only say it with a quick smile...know that your presence is appreciated.
Especially when it's twelve degrees outside.