I once heard a story about a woman being beaten in the street. She cried out for help and though many people saw her from their apartment windows, no one did anything to help her.
She passed away.
In later police interviews, residents were asked why they didn’t do anything to help. They were interviewed as to why they didn’t call the police.
They all had the same response; I thought surely someone else would help her.
It seems outrageous that no one did anything.
How could that possibly be? It wasn’t an apartment complex of cold-hearted souls who had no regard for human life. No, they were people, just like you and me, who told themselves a false story and then chose to believe it.
Any one of them could have helped her, but they believed a story that their help wasn’t needed.
I’m fascinated by the power of stories, both the stories we tell ourselves and the …