There’s a story that touches the soul, one that

Rita had already buried her son. Now, the world had buried her.

Years on the streets had stolen her smile, her dignity, her face in the mirror.

Then a stranger stopped, looked closer, and refused to walk away. A dentist’s chair. Scissors. Hair dye. A trembling first glance at a new self. What happened next shat…

Rita had grown used to being invisible, treated more like the bags and bottles she carried than a human being.