It is a very ill wind that blows no good at all

THERE is always a good side to everything. Even an everything as grimly dreadful as the coronavirus. And as has been the case in past crises the good to come of bad is the simple human kindness that has been generated.

Maybe we can expect the front line troops to perform beyond reason. Nurses, medics, care professionals all know that under these conditions it is there willingness to advance when most would pull back that will get us through it.

Their rewards are slight. Most are poorly paid, they work long hours and when the chips are down it turns out that there are never enough chips in reserve. Going into battle without a weapon is one thing; doing it without adequate protection quite another. But they do it. 

The charity I am referring to is that form of kindness which, for so much of the time, we bemoan for its absence.

The thank you when you step aside to allow people to pass socially, safely apart.

The pulling back from the corner on the sight of others coming on.

The willingness, at last perhaps, to wait quietly in line, six feet apart and alone for the most part. And then mostly to shop quietly and in the approved direction.

The actual lack of large gatherings such that the rare ones are remarked exceptions.

The presence in the park of a just a few strollers and mostly in ones or two, well apart and changing route early to avoid clashes.

The fact that while social media is alive with grumble and fumble there is little real anger and rare vitriol. And lots of good natured contributions to a smile or a laugh or a few minutes peaceful enjoyment of a piece of music, a song, an artwork, a poem, or just someone telling their little story for others to enjoy. Some people have even wanted forgiveness for some politicians!

Stressed mums, (and dads), short of cash but suddenly rich in time, mostly out of their depth but quietly getting on with teaching Tommy and Annie.

Teachers, suddenly freed from classroom stress, giving up this hard won free time by turning their hand to on-line learning, one to one and on call.

The delivery people who have had to change their methods but have done it willingly and now stand back and ask if you are “alright with that?” And thank you as if they owed us anything really.

In our flats garden the ladies shorn of coffe mornings and teas and chat and games sessions setting out the chairs to sit 9 feet apart in the sunshine without a grumble.

The publican plaintively asking on Twitter how they were going to cope with a shut pub and the pubco still asking for rent. But not angrily. Just wistfully.

The hotels that have turned over to letting rooms to the homeless, with grace where the very idea was once anathema.

And how come the postie is so cheerful? It is not a great job and now it carries unquantified risk.

So is this how it will be? If this dread virus refuses to go away, be controlled or expunged?

Will we start a new life walking on the bright side of life? Wouldn't it be loverly...