Photographs by Rachel Bujalski

The blanket was filthy, and it was writhing—as if the person beneath it was trying to escape, or tear it apart.

As I watched from a van just up the road, at the intersection of 17th and Vermont, in San Francisco, Sister Salvina, wearing the blue-and-white sari of Mother Teresa’s order, explained how best to approach the person under the blanket. We would bring a tremendous offering of food: two water bottles, two juices, two Egg McMuffins, one meat-and-cheese sandwich, four Uncrustables, one cup of oatmeal, one hot chocolate, one banana. She recommended I keep my tape recorder in my bag, and handed me the banana.

The woman under the blanket was named Ashley. At the sound of Salvina’s voice, she pulled the blanket back so that it revealed her face but remai

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