He stopped to help someone
in need. In this case, the
person in need had been

accosted, beaten, robbed
and left for dead. It would
be “hands on” kind of help.

This happened a long time ago,
before there would be lots of
litigious rabbit holes down

which a “helper” could plummet.
Others had passed by the poor
victim. This person, one seen

as an outsider, stopped to help.
The helper didn’t know anything
about the victim. The victim

might have been a scoundrel.
If the two had met at another
time, they might have detested

each other. It didn’t matter.
The victim needed help and
the helper was there to help.

That, according to a particular-
ly wise teller of the story,
is what being a neighbor

is all about — all about.
That isn’t rocket science.
“It is what it is” to quote

someone who wouldn’t know
a neighbor if the neighbor
fell out of the sky and

landed on him. In this case,
“It is what it is” is love —
unvarnished, unsentimental

love as an action verb. I
like that “It is what it is”
a whole lot more than the

“It is what it is” response
to the deaths of thousands
upon thousands of our neighbors.