On my last visit to Zagreb, which was about a month ago, I was witness to two events that quite surprised me. I let some time go by before putting my experiences into words, though. Strong emotions cannot but harm accounts of this sort. Both events took place on one of the busiest squares in the pedestrian area in the center of the city. And on two consecutive days. In both cases, it was an hour or so before noon, when there were many people walking hither and thither at brisk pace.

On the first day, I was walking across the square when I spotted an old man walking toward a large store. Short and scrawny, he barely moved. He would make two tiny steps, and then he would rest for a few seconds before taking another two tiny steps. Stunned by his progress, I stopped at one corner of the square to watch him. When he finally reached the doorway of the store, he appeared surprised that there was no threshold there. Instead, there was a ramp of sorts. At very low grade, it is not even noticeable by most of those who enter or leave the store, but it confused the old man. When he stepped on the ramp after some hesitation, he quickly lost his balance and fell on his back. Four or five passersby jumped to his help at once. There was no hesitation on their part. I was amazed at their resolution and their speed. A tall and strong middleaged man picked up the old man from the pavement and carried him into the store. A moment later, he was placed on a chair. A glass of water was handed him shortly afterwards. The men and women who came to his help stood around him for quite a while. They left only when they were convinced that the old man was alright.

Around the same time the next day, I was sipping my drink at a café at one side of the square when an old man rushed past me. Stooped, he appeared to be falling. An old woman was clinging to his arm, and it was obvious that she had hard time following him. As they moved across the square, the old man walked faster and faster, and the woman finally let go of his arm. A moment later, he stumbled and fell face down, but he managed to put his arms in front of him just in time. Four or five passersby jumped to his help in a jiffy. There was no hesitation on anyone’s part, and a chair was swiftly brought out to the square from one of the nearby stores. A glass of water followed it a few seconds later. Standing around the old man together with his woman, who could hardly move after the incident, they were ready to help in any way possible. One more time, I was stunned by their resolution and their speed. Their help was immediate, as well as earnest. Actually, heartfelt. Everyone stayed around until it was clear that the old man was alright.

Even though I have often heard that it is not advisable to lift a person who stumbles and falls on the street, for moving his or her body should be left to medical professionals with proper equipment, the two events in the center of the Croatian capital delighted me nonetheless. The resolution and speed of all the helpers I witnessed twice in a row was simply amazing. Not a single passerby walked past the old person in trouble as though it was none of his or her business. Rather, every single one of them was ready to help in any way imaginable. And I felt kind of proud of the city of my birth. Even more, I felt love for it. Yes, good old love. Whence my decision to let some time pass by before putting my experiences into words. But pride and love are still with me to this day. Zagreb be praised!