Waiting to cross a street on my way to the subway this morning, a young woman approached me while brushing her teeth, but with no toothpaste. She wore a parka over a long cotton dress and looked middle class.

"Hello," she said. "My name's Jessie." (I could swear that's what she said.) "I am not a crackhead and I am attempting to panhandle you out of necessity...And yes, I am brushing my teeth."

"Here, let me see what I have," I said, and fumbling in a pocket found a toonie which I handed her.

"Wow," she said with no apparent irony. "Thanks."

No doubt I was influenced by the fact that she was young, female, and seemed about four months' pregnant. My doubletake on the name comes from the fact that Jessie could be short for my daughter-in-law's name, and that she is having a baby soon as well.

I have no great lesson to pass on about this encounter (as I did in another recent blog). Coming across such people at loose ends, who've "fallen through the cracks," or what have you, is just a fact of life in Toronto.

During the 15 years we lived just to the west of here in the suburban city of Mississauga, I don't believe I was approached even once for spare change. But in Toronto, the screen shielding us from much of the human condition has been removed.

Which just goes to prove that, try as I might, I can't help but draw some lessons from such incidents.