I really like people.
From the kind man who said to me with a smile “I’ll take that in for you” as I looked around the ginormous Costco parking lot for one of the few cart corrals, to the kids sitting on the floor of Home Depot reading while their parents bought paint, to, of course, my incredibly quirky and brilliant son; my kind, gentle, and also brilliant daugther; and my sweet, generous husband. (Oh, yeah, he’s brilliant too. You should see the title of his Master’s Thesis. Seriously.)
From the person who sensed that I was in a hurry at the grocery store, so he smiled and gestured me ahead of him in line (even though I hadn’t said a word) … to the person who looked so appreciative when the rolls were reversed and I gestured her ahead of me in line … to my fellow students who work with me to scan code for errors … to the truck driver who slowed down and flashed his lights because clearly my 200,000 mile Civic wasn’t up to accelerating up the entry ramp hill on 95 quickly enough to merge … to, well, everyone; I like ’em. I like ’em all. Ok, almost all. I’m not oblivious after all.
But let’s remember, the few who do awful things, they’re such a small, small minority. How many people do we pass every day with a smile, who smile in return; with a helping hand offered or accepted; with just a wave in traffic to help people along their day with a little less stress? People are good, and kind, and I’m glad I get to share this world with them.