‘Become passers-by,’ such is the advice given in a logion in the Gospel of Thomas. Ah, in the raindrops that run down the windshield, the colourful variety of the exterior releases all its charm and attraction in the flowing together of the colours (see cover). In terms of inner things, there is a need for people who are attentive to what happens and who know how to open up, because we knock at the door of the consciousness of the heart. Yet all too often, the passer-by does not hear the knock and turns away from the other, who has need of his soul power. He prefers seeing the many colours of the night that offer distraction over the task, the supportive word or the deed that might further help another. It is not a sublime knock from a divine power that humans do not know, but it is the request from your neighbour, from a friend, whom you cannot adequately help. It is the sorrow of a relative, when you stand by and observe and are powerless to alleviate the misery, even if you share the pain that oppresses him or her. How true is this question from Dag Hammarskjöld, the famous United Nations Secretary-General: ‘Have you ever felt sympathy toward a person or thing other than yourself?’