On my daily walk to the office, I pass a youngish man (late twenties to early thirties) who looks like a lunatic — or worse a peeping tom — to the untrained eye. In reality, he's just got a ritual that looks bizarre if you aren't paying attention.
Every day, as he leaves for work, he exits his townhouse and then steps up to the window and says goodbye to his adorable little son, who's probably about 2. He waves, he makes faces, he blows kisses. And the boy just laughs and laughs.
People are fundamentally good.