Good Old-fashioned Trust

Remember when the trash collectors would retrieve the garbage from the side of your home? Or how about the milk that would arrive on the doorstep or the bread on the nail in your porch.

I'm old enough to remember unlocked cars in the driveway, homes only secured at night (if that) and walking to school without any fear of getting kidnapped.

Near the cemetery where my mom was interred there was a little makeshift flowerstand with a fridge containing beautiful bouquets, sprays and buckets of single flowers. No owner ever present, a sign said "Help Yourself" with a metal box to leave your cash.

What's happened to our world? Sometimes we view the news and wonder where has civility and professionalism and kindness gone? Trust has been replaced with finger-pointing and name-calling. It seems that being first or stronger or right is more important than listening or loving. Bullying and meanness seem like priorities higher than the values of goodness and peace.

But we wouldn't be "Alive 'n Well" if we didn't have the ability to see beyond all that.

For example, there's Rick (I've changed his name). Alice and I were jogging on his street the other day. We had heard that his house might have once been the home of famous Olympian and golfer Babe Zaharias, and so we asked.

Not only did he show us her name inscribed in the cement (poured in 1956), he brought us into the house and showed us nearly every room, including the two mid-century bathrooms with that tile style and color scheme some of you would remember with ease.

Although Rick didn't know us from Eve or Adam, we were welcomed as if we were family.

All of which makes me wonder if we wouldn't do better to begin trusting more and assuming the best and highest in others, even those with whom we (vehemently) disagree.