The homeless man holds a cardboard sign towards my car while I idle at a red light. I am struck by the artistry of the sign, the layout and penmanship. I want to open the window, I want to tell him how much I admire his work, but I have no cash, and I am not a tease. The light changes to green. As I pass him, our eyes meet, so I give him a worthless smile. But he smiles back, a smile as beautiful as his sign. I think I’m the one who came away richer from the encounter.