Mine made me think about my own kindness—or lack of it.I'm somewhat experienced living/working in cities, which means I'm just below expert level at walking past beggars—I do it, but I still feel bad about it, even if it's obviously a scam. My college town was a training ground, widely suburban with a dense commercial core that planted my will to walk past; I studied in Rome and Florence for a month one summer, an international crash course in ignoring scams; finally, I got a big boy job in St. Louis, a mid-sized city that provides adequate opportunity to feel like a jerk on a daily basis.Earlier this year, I went to Chicago (now that's a real city) to visit a buddy who'd lived there for six years. He went to college downtown, he'd worked on the south side—he'd seen a lot. One mornin