I've always been of the school of thought that people are, by nature, good. Rousseau was my favorite -- well, a tie with David Hume -- philosopher, and nothing could convince me otherwise.
Then we landed in America. Within a week, my purse was stolen, we learned our storage unit had been ravaged, and I started to re-think Hobbesian theory.
It's been a rough several weeks re-adjusting to life over here. Thankfully, our friends have come out of the woodwork to prove that there are incredibly good people everywhere.
First, after not really seeing us in a year and a half, our closest friends helped us move. You know you are loved when people will move boxes, especially when you're too old for the ol' pizza-and-beer bribe. (Unemployment cancels out that rule though.)
Third, we had been living off of noodles and frozen edamame, as we hadn't had the time to get to the store, much less to cook. Our refrigerator looked like a bachelor pad -- pizza boxes and ketchup. What happens? A most wonderful friend shows up with bags and bags of vegan meals for the freezer. I thought we'd missed out on that whole casseroles-to-the-new-parents or apple-pies-to-the-new-neighbors routine.
Anyway, I just thought I'd share my philosophical discovery: It turns out people are good.
But really, how could you look at that face and think otherwise?
P.S. Totally forgot to mention the amazing friend who hired a housecleaner to clean out the nastiness that our renters left behind!!