When my dad, the saint, went to the city morgue to identify what remained of our friend’s son’s charred body, I don’t believe that he had any ulterior motive. When our friend’s children were in jail for minor legal infractions, they called my dad, not their parents, because my dad would not be harsh. What did he have to gain? Nothing but sincere appreciation.

My dad was not a perfect man but his behavior was the very model of altruism.

I am far from perfect but there are times when I helped others expecting nothing in return. When I was wealthy I gave 30% of my income to worthy causes and never told a soul until I married. My wife and I continued the practice. Anonymous cash donations and we did not expect, we could not expect, anything in return. We felt no blushing rush of goodness. We didn’t give to feel better about ourselves but because there were people in need and we had the means to help.

I think altruism is very real. My father was the shining, behind the scenes, example. He taught me that doing what is good and right were moral imperatives. Doing what we should do and expecting nothing in return. I couldn’t live up to that standard; my mental disorders got in the way.

But there was my dad.