Look. I've seen a man put several dead batteries in a recycling bin. With care. And you have to bend down, because the operation is not comfortable.
I have also seen a lady picking up her dog's droppings with the illusion -it is noticed, it is felt- that there are no remains on the sidewalk. And there was no one around. Only I was looking out the window.
I saw a young girl who gave up her seat to a pregnant woman. On the subway. She gave her seat with a smile and a question: How many months pregnant are you? 6 months. Lots of encouragement. Wink. Wink.
I have seen -by hearsay- Morat singing in the office of a child who needs a bone marrow. Little José María was thrilled. And they went, live. No press.
I've seen a gentleman taking great pains to sort through the garbage challenges of his saintly domicile. Colored bags. Miscellaneous bins. A puzzle only suitable for people with charm.
I have overheard a "good morning" to the kiosk attendant. A "thank you" to the man who sweeps the streets in my neighborhood. A "of course" to the pharmacist. A "take care" to the family doctor. A "Mom, I love you with all my heart" plus a kiss at one of the few telephone booths left alive on the planet. smartphone.
I've seen handwritten letters that keep falling into the mailbox. Young people in a nursing home, with their well-meaning words, listening without getting paid. Social cinema. Committed journalism. Active culture against inequalities, burqa-wearing liberties, soulless consumerism, and the footwear of power.
There are pro-lifers who leave their idem for turning unwanted pregnancies into exciting futures. Without hell. With heart. They tell me about it: there, at the door of the street, one Saturday after another Saturday of cold, heat or indifference.
There are animal protectors who also work hard to take care of nature.
I have heard, seen, touched and talked to good people. Who do not appear in the strident analyses of contemporary societies, where those who kill, steal, and violate rights emerge more and more with less and less impunity.
Good people, even if Fito only sings about crooks. Even if the news is a morgue of decaffeinated humanism. Good people. Like you.
Good people! It needs to be said more often. Because what we see on the street is more real than what we see on the street. echan on TV. White Christmas. White Christmas open 365 days a year. Your turn.
Journalist
