Herman Melville.
I recently moved from a small friendly village to a big, impersonal town. I have to be honest, it was a big upheaval.
Relocating from somewhere with such a strong sense of community to a place where people drive everywhere and appear to not know their neighbours was slightly disheartening.
Last week I stopped at the shops at the end of my road to buy a loaf of bread. Usually I go to the nearest supermarket but on this occasion I was really pushed for time and thought this would be the quickest option.
I had, luckily, got out of my car when a speeding car came past smashing into the car next to me and then crashing into mine. The young, inexperienced driver drove off straight away leaving me shocked and a bit bewildered as to what to do next.
Within minutes I was surrounded by people from both the shops and the flats above them. Numerous people had written down the numberplate for me, one called the police, another went to check if the CCTV camera had recorded it and one kind lady said I could wait in her flat and offered to make me tea.
I was literally overwhelmed by kindness and hang on steadfastly to my belief that people are inherently good. A fact it is so easy to lose sight of with the hundreds of media reports each week implying otherwise.
Initially I was sad there was nothing beautiful about where I am now living but I was wrong. The people are.
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