What is amazing to me is how when people hear a good thing, they are shocked. I often wondered if we had a magic ball and could see all the good being done around us daily, if we would see that the world really isn’t a crappy place, but one with both. The problem, of course, is that the good things are not ‘sexy’, so all we hear about are the dark sides of human behavior. In times when everything seems to be hitting the fan, I try to remember the good that happens even in dark times. For example, the group Trans Siberian Orchestra in their Christmas show plays a song called “Christmas Eve: Sarajevo”, that has become one of their trademark tunes. The song has a story behind it, a true one, in the middle of the madness that hit that region and Sarajevo in particular, a cellist on Christmas eve went to the center of Sarajevo and played, he literally risked his life to bring something human to an area rent by inhuman behavior, literally risking his life to do it because he thought it was something needed to be done.
And there are millions upon millions of people doing that every day, we just don’t hear about them. I also hear how people aren’t grateful, that no good deed goes unpunished, but I don’t believe that either. I have seen real gratitude when performing little acts of kindness, the time a friend of mine was going through a rough time and I patched up the exhaust system on his car when he couldn’t afford to repair it (passed inspection, and my patches held up until he junked the car…), the time I was going through a very rough time, was literally down to the point that I didn’t see any hope for the future, and an older gentleman brought me a cup of coffee on the bench I was sitting on in the Port Authority bus terminal in NY, and sat and listened to me as I talked, and that simple act, along with some well spoken words, got me headed home rather than doing god knows what, and in both cases there was real gratitude, both from me and to me.
I always think of one of my favorite O’Henry story, when a person comes to New York City (story was set around the turn of the 20th century), and he finds the city this cold, unfeeling place, and is ready to leave and go back home, swearing he will never fit in. At the end of the story, as he is getting ready to go back to his place and pack, he gets hit by a vehicle, and suddenly this cold, unfriendly place shows him true caring. At the end of the story, someone asks him where he is from, and he says “I am a New Yawker”.