I DROVE through Mytholmroyd after the flooding. Everywhere along the road the pavement was piled high with the ruined contents of people's houses. It was impossible not to feel for those whose lives had been so hugely disrupted.

The traffic was moving slowly and we had to be wary of the many people stood on corners and flitting across the road. These were the volunteers, mostly local, who had come to help out: wherever a task needed willing hands there were plenty on offer. In many places there were handwritten signs offering food and hot drinks to those who had been flooded and the volunteers.

In nearby Hebden Bridge many shops had been flooded, nearly all small businesses including two that I know very well. A friend texted me to say that his heart went out particularly to them as he knew what it was like to lose a small business.Driving through I felt a little ashamed at not being able to help.

I watched a TV programme recently studying four year olds and seeing how they developed empathy: the ability to see yourself in someone else's place. It was easy to put myself in the position of those flooded in the Calder Valley, rather harder to feel so much for those affected by war and famine in far-flung corners of the world. But this is only really my lack of imagination - deep-down I know they are people like those in Mytholmroyd with feelings just like my own.

The parable of the Good Samaritan in the gospel is the reply to this same fundamental question: Who is my neighbour?

Kevin Hogan,

Skipton Quakers