Theo of Golden turned out to be a very different reading experience from what I expected. I had seen so many people describe it as cozy, warm, and quietly hopeful, the kind of book that restores some faith in people. I can understand why. Theo is generous, attentive, and willing to use what he has to make other people’s lives easier. He notices people. He gives without demanding much in return. His presence creates relief, dignity, and sometimes real change.
But I could never fully settle into the coziness, because I kept noticing how much Theo was able to change simply because he had enough money to do it. His generosity is supposed to demonstrate the possibilities of kindness, and I do think it does. But for me, it also became evidence of just how unevenly those possibilities are distributed. One person can enter a community, identify needs, and materially change lives because he happens to possess resources that other people do not. Theo is exceptional partly because he is kind, but he is also exceptional because he can afford to act on that kindness. Those are not the same thing.
