As the weather slowly warms in Chicago, people gradually shed their various layers. It is now commonplace to see people without hats, scarves and gloves.

As I walk to my office in the morning, I notice peoples’ bare hands as they walk. Their fingers curve inward as their arms swing. I wonder what those hands did this morning, what they will be doing at work today, and what they will do tonight to celebrate the weekend. I wonder if they are the hands of happy people. Sometimes I have an almost overwhelming urge to slip my hand into a stranger’s hand, squeeze, and tell them it will be all right.