The Good Guys

This morning, we had a lovely breakfast with friends who have traveled from Louisville to see Wesley Korir run in the Chicago Marathon tomorrow. As a doctor and a nurse without borders, our friends spent two and a half weeks in Kenya working at a medical clinic that Korir built with his race winnings. They were members of the first medical team to serve at the clinic, and they treated 3,500 people and performed six life-saving surgeries on children. It was no surprise to me that they said they plan to return to the clinic every year.

We picked up our friends and their son from their downtown hotel and went to Brunch on Orleans at Erie. At 10am, there was plenty of nearby street parking. As Bill backed into a legal space, an old man dressed in black plastic garbage bags stood behind the truck and motioned that we had plenty of room. Oh dear. Bill didn’t back up far enough, in his opinion, and the bum told him so. Bill talked to him for a little bit, out of my hearing, then we all went inside the restaurant.

On our way home, I got to thinking about Wesley Korir and his good deeds. And I got to thinking about our friends and their good deeds. And I got to thinking about the bum and his good deed. Then I asked Bill what he and the bum had talked about.

The bum’s name is Batman, because he has helped the police catch some bad guys, and he used to be a bad guy but now he’s a good guy. He showed Bill where he sleeps. Bill slipped him a few bucks, for helping him to park the truck, and told Batman that he used to be the boss in this district. So Batman said he’d keep an eye on our truck. When I heard that Batman feels much better being a good guy, I just burst into tears.

I try really hard to believe that goodness follows goodness. And to see it happening before my eyes just felt so…wonderful.