Yesterday at work a business man walked through the door, frantic and needing
help.  He was clean cut, nicely pressed white shirt tucked in smartly to a
pair of well fitting slacks.  Clutched to his chest he held a pigeon.  "I pulled
it away from a hawk," he said. "I pulled it out of the hawk's grip."  He was
covered in the pigeon's blood.  A sanguine landscape on his snow white shirt.  
He didn't care about the blood at all.  He just cared about the pigeon.  I took
it in back and gave it some hydration and some valium to help with the shock.
I offered the man a towel and some hydrogen peroxide to get the blood of his
shirt but he wasn't interested.  "No, no thank you.  I'll go home and change."
He was flustered.  He left the hospital as quickly as he had entered.  

Later that afternoon he called to check on the pigeon.  "She's doing well,"
we told him.

The entire experience gave me a great sense of well-being.  I imagined a banker
walking through the financial district in San Francisco on his way to a very
important business meeting.  He sees an injured animal and tries to rescue it,
losing all sight of time.  Nothing matters except saving the animal.  Maybe it's
a sewer rat, something many people compare pigeons to.  Flying rats.  The life
of the pest suddenly becomes more important than the next financial transaction.

Despite everything, all people are inherently good.