We spend a lot of time in this column talking about what's broken — the budget holes, the bureaucratic bloat, the transit delays, the policies that make you want to scream into a reusable tote bag. And we'll keep doing that, because someone has to.

But every now and then, San Francisco reminds you why people fell in love with this city in the first place.

One local recently witnessed a small moment at a bus stop that stuck with them: an elderly woman stepped off a Muni bus with a walker and a cane. An older gentleman was sitting at the stop, and he stood up as she arrived. She helped him take control of the walker, steadied him by the arm, and together they moved on — slowly, patiently, without a word of complaint.

No app facilitated this. No city program funded it. No supervisor held a press conference about it. Just two people who've clearly been looking out for each other for a very long time, navigating a city that isn't always built for them.

As the observer put it: "It's so wholesome to see old couples around the Bay Area — they patiently help each other around."

Here's the thing: this is what community actually looks like. Not a grant proposal. Not a task force. Not a $5 million "equity initiative" with a 47-page PDF nobody reads. It's people taking care of each other because that's what people do when government gets out of the way — or, more accurately, when government isn't even part of the equation.

San Francisco could use more of this energy. Less overhead, more looking out for your neighbor. Less process, more patience. Less talking about community, more being one.

We don't know who this couple is, and we probably never will. But wherever they were headed, they got there together. And in a city that sometimes feels like it's pulling apart at the seams, that's worth noticing.