Today I wrote a card to a neighbor of mine. He is a small-business owner who helps self-employed keep their offices organized. In the process, he has made friends with every one of them.
Every year he has a huge Epiphany party. So much food that it takes a trolley cart to bring it to the community room. Part of the gag is that you bring the worst present ever--the thing you wouldn't even "re-gift" and everyone draws a lottery. He also has a huge Thanksgiving potluck and oh, for heaven's sake. You never ate so well in your life.
There's another lady here whose brother recently had a stroke. He's doing great. She's running from her house to his, fixing him all up: washing curtains, bugging him to cook again, (he is a chef), teaching him and laughing with him when he uses the wrong proper noun. Every day she has a huge smile. When she was young, I bet you twenty dollars she was vivacious and popular. She still is.
The president of my Board has a ready tongue and a sarcastic way about him. But he sees everything really clearly. He is also very kind to people in difficulty. He does not "go off" on people who need a gentler hand. He also has an unexpected patience much at variance to his temperament.
Mr. B. is afraid to ask for favors. But if you do something for him, he will find out what book you like to read. He probably has it in stock and it will be on your doorstep the next day.
Mr. G is a retired professor. He raises turtles and always wants to know how you are doing. Lately he has gotten a caretaker and looks much better.
All of these people have troubles: diabetes, family worries, frustrations with the way the world works, maybe even money troubles. They are all highly intelligent. It does not stop them from spreading little bits of goodness, each in their own way.
And then there's the good people I know here . . . . my electronic neighbors . . . . I feel very fortunate.