Thinking of Anne Frank

"Despite all that has happened, I still believe people are good at heart." Anne Frank

Do you ever wonder if it's true? With all the ways we've found to torment and take the dignity and lives of others, what's left that's truly good? I find myself wondering every time I look at the news. I'm probably one of those victims of information fatigue syndrome. I can only take about 5 minutes of the dead-body-killer-storm-fire-car-wreck onslaught before I have to turn it off. I'm getting so cynical that I'm now surprised when I see someone doing something kind and selfless. What's more, I might start to cry.

Last night I looked over before church to see our pastor bending all the way over to listen to his small grandson. He nodded intently for a few minutes, then hugged him. "but he's a pastor and a grandpa". Perhaps.

I still didn't get it, evidently, because the Spirit had to show me more. About halfway through service, I looked over to see a couple we know listening intently to the sermon. He sat behind her and had his hand on her forehead, as if he were feeling her head for a fever. He was actually supporting her head as they sat. Over the last year or two she has been struck with an illness that has severely impaired her motor control and she tires easily so, as they sat there, he must have known she was getting worn out. Throughout the rest of the service, he continued to listen, peering over his bifocals to see the Bible passages on the overhead and taking notes -- as he gently held her head.

If you can look past the ugly onslaught of blood-red news we get every day, there is still a world out there where people are kind. Witness this article from Jeanne Sahadi at CNNMoney. The Toronto Star just published an article on random acts of kindness, too. Actually, if I think about it, I can add a story of my own. A few months ago I arrived late and alone in Chicago and wanted to take the train from O'Hare to downtown. I had been traveling all week and was low on cash. I didn't know I had to have exact change to get on the train and because it was so late, there was no attendant. A young woman saw me fumbling around and looking pretty frustrated and swiped her transit card and motioned me through. It made my whole night.

Maybe Anne Frank was right. I'd sure like to believe she was.