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I remember asking "Is this Miss Narhi's class?" The second day of kindergarten, I was on my own, walking to school - typical of the times. Only three blocks away, yet somedays I thought I would never make it home, famished as I was. One day on my way home, I tripped over a rusty tricycle blocking the sidewalk at the neighborhood's notoriously messy house. Girls were only allowed to wear dresses to school until I was in fourth grade, usually combined with anklets or knee socks, so I ended up with a cut up under my dress. I must have been a daydreamer even then. Getting to school safely was assisted by the guidance of the eleven-year-old boys wearing a designated sash, with arms at forty-five-degree angles, to cross us safely. An orange card with a helping hand picture taped in the picture window let us know which houses were appropriate to ask for help if needed. So many good, helpful people still exist in this world, yet the 24/7 news cycles inundate us with the worst of the worst making some believe hope is gone. As a kid, television news was on at six and eleven. After that, a static block of colors graced the screen. I tire of hearing the youth of today are lazy and no good. Read a book from any century and you will find people have always been concerned with the younger generation, and the world going to pot. My kids are all millennials, so I know many, and they certainly do not fit these stereotypes, nor do the friends they have brought home. No category of people can be generalized with one bad trait. Nor can an address determine who is bad and who is good. Some people may need a boost, and our helping hands can be a remedy. A long wedding weekend last summer had us getting to know many 27-year-olds, all who are more than competent to run the world. I choose to see light rather than darkness.