There’s this idea that New York City is a heartless, impersonal place: stories have spread about how the huge population makes it relatively easy for an individual to get “lost in the shuffle” or for human distress to pass unnoticed. But if you are actually in New York, you see enough to know that there are good people with the capacity for love even in the big city. Last week, I saw three black teenage girls leisurely board the subway, while one held a black and white kitten on her shoulder. They talked among themselves and passed the kitten back and forth while riding and changing trains. I think everybody who saw it smiled.