From the Editor’s Desk: Right? (Premium)

I swung by Costco this morning on the way to the gym to pick up a prescription. On the way out, I was zigzagging my way through the parking lot to get to my car when I saw a tiny old Asian woman attempting to drag three 75-pound bags of fertilizer (or whatever) out of the back of her minivan, presumably so she could return them. So I zagged back a step and asked her if I could help.

She was delighted that I did, and I quickly stacked the bags on the flatbed cart she had gotten, told her it was no problem, and then made my way back to my car. But I had noticed something troubling as I had approached the woman's van earlier, and it was still bothering me. There was a couple on either side of that van, in both cases a man and a woman, all younger than me, and they had been there before I arrived. And none of them had thought to help this woman.

I don't think of my parents as having done a terrific job raising their kids, in fact, I can point to some clear shortcomings there. But I do have an innate understanding of right and wrong, and I have tried to live by example when it comes to my own children. And I'm confused when I don't see others behaving similarly. Even—maybe especially—when it's inconvenient. These people had their own items in carts and had just finished shopping, sure. But come on.

This is a tough topic because discussing helping others feels uncomfortably close to bragging about doing so, and acts of charity are best done in private and for the right reasons. But in one of life's curious coincidences, my wife and I have had several experiences in this vein recently, and it's getting a little weird. Worse, they've triggered a related crisis of confidence in the belief system. Which will make more sense shortly.

From March through November 2023, we lived in an apartment complex in Macungie, a place that is decidedly more blue collar than the areas we've lived in that bookend that time. I loved it there, by the train tracks and a short walk from a favorite bar/restaurant that we still visit each week, and still feel like we could end up there again. Among the cast of background characters that made up our life during this brief time was Chris, an elderly gentlemen downstairs who rarely left his apartment because of physical limitations. We only ever saw him, and then got to know him, because he'd sit outside sometimes, and his little balcony or porch was beside the path to the door we used.

Chris is a sweet guy in many ways, but he's home bound and he needs help. He doesn't have family close by, and he's apparently relied on a series of neighbors to help him with shopping, especially, and other errands. Over the course of our time there, we quickly became some of his key helpers. We often did his food shopping, bought his cheap wine, and brought home meals from that restaurant we used to walk to pretty regularly. The first time we walked up to the register at the liquor store, the guy behind the counter saw the che...