Context: I live in the ghetto. Straight up. Even my neighbors scream it at the top of their lungs as they break down the entrance door, or my neighbor's door. You see, I live in a complex of buildings that houses, for the most part, government subsidized people. People who have been in trouble with the law. Drug addicts and alcoholics. Violent offenders that go in and out of jail. Unstable people, overall. And most of them don't work.
In some ways, I may actually fit right in. I am currently unemployed and have been so for what feels like forever. I scrounge to find a couple of bucks here and there to buy cigarettes and a bottle of wine. Regardless...it's not really the right environment for healthy growth. On the few times I get food delivered, the delivery men say they hate coming to these buildings. I think that says it all. There is certainly never a dull moment in my building!
And this is why, in this microcosm of darkness and despair, it is always such a welcome to get an ember of light coming through.
1. Earlier this week, as I checked my mailbox, I received this little flyer wishing me a Merry Christmas. From the mailman. If there were ever a place not to wish someone happiness because of all the drama that occurs, it would be here. And yet, he did it. I've never met him (or her) and may never do so, but I think it speaks volumes for the quality of person to reach out and do something so little which can mean so much. My many thanks, Mr.Mailman, for your gift to me.
2. Tonight, I went to the depanneur and wanted to buy myself (guess?) a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes to celebrate the holiday season in my humble abode. There is a sign that clearly states that no credit is given to customers. I have been going there for nearly a year now (it's crazy how time flies). I have never asked for a thing from them, buying what I could with the money I had.
I had $20 left in my account. I approached the counter with my bottle and the owner, a middle-aged Sri Lankan (who owns the place with his wife), immediately had a pack of my preferred cigarettes waiting for me at the counter. It was the first time I hadn't had to ask him for what I wanted. It was quite a nice surprise.
I never thought he remembered my brand or cared, really. I told him I only had 20 dollars and that I couldn't afford the 25 pack. He checked the two items in. It came to 22.42. I was short. I told him I would try the 20 pack.
He asked me, "Is the 20 pack enough for you?"
"No," I said, "but I don't have the money for the 25 pack."
"Take it. You will pay me back when you have the money."
I tell you, there are tiny little moments in life, even as small as a 2 dollar loan from a corner store owner or a note from the mailman, when your faith in humanity is restored just a little bit.
Never forget those small acts of kindness in your life. They make this sometimes difficult life that much easier to bear.
And on that note, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
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