And sometimes, they’re really not.
Last week, a friend of mine unknowingly dropped her phone in a parking lot. Upon
realizing what must’ve happened, she tried calling the phone, but it went
straight to voicemail, so she assumed it died or had broken somewhere in the
fall. But when she called her husband to tell him what happened, he said that he had
called her earlier and someone picked up. When he asked who was speaking, they
hung up. Being that she had retraced her steps through the parking lot and the
store, this likely means that someone found the phone after she dropped it,
and kept it for themselves. That’s a pretty sucky thing to have happen at any
time, but especially at Christmastime. It’s an unfortunate reminder that not
everyone in this great, big world of ours is, shall we say, honest or kind. But
that’s not the kind of post I’d like to write about today.
In the spirit of the holidays, I’d like to tell you some stories that have
happy endings.
The first tale is about a man named Albert. I had served Albert only a few
times but I remembered him because he always drank Stella, ordered a pound of
wings with extra celery and used a double Airmiles coupon. Plus, he was a really
sweet old man; just someone that was polite and always struck up a harmless,
friendly conversation, which, when you work in a sports bar, is not always what
you get when serving an older man who dines alone. I hadn’t seen him in quite a
few months, so Albert was surprised to come in one day to find that I remembered
him and his order, and that I was six or seven months pregnant. So we chatted
for awhile; turns out his daughter was also pregnant at the time. And after he
paid his bill, which included a gratuity, he handed me a $20 bill. I assumed he
just needed me to break some change for him, so I started to do so, but he
stopped me and told me to use that $20 to start my baby’s college fund. I cried.
Not an ugly cry, but a shocked, misty-eyed,
could-not-believe-this-actually-happens little moment. Can you imagine? This
almost stranger, someone whom I barely knew anything about – just his preference
in beer and wings, was selflessly handing me money to put towards my unborn
baby’s future. I tried to refuse the money, and when that didn’t work, I tried
to be as gracious as I could. How could I tell this man how much his simple
gesture meant to me? I didn’t have the words then, and I don’t have them now
either. I just know that what he did was the kindest, most pure thing anyone has
ever done for me. I promised him that my daughter would know where her first
twenty dollars came from, and when she’s old enough to understand, we will go to
the bank together to deposit the money that Albert gave to her, the money I’ve
kept in a special place since that day, and she’ll know all about the man who
likes to drink Stella.
The next story also takes place during my stint as a pregnant waitress. This
one involves Steve, one quarter of a group of regulars that I had been serving
for years. One day while talking about my pregnancy, Steve made a comment,
something to the effect of him offering me the crib his youngest son had just
vacated. I don’t really remember what was said but I know that even though I
agreed, I brushed the exchange off and didn’t take it seriously because well,
people don’t just give other people cribs, let alone to your friendly,
neighbourhood bartender, no matter how good she makes your mild Caesars. But
then a few weeks later, Steve brought it up again, asking when would be a good
time to bring the crib by. Again, I don’t really remember the conversation, just
that I was still unsure if this was actually happening or not, because this kind
of stuff doesn’t really happen to people, right? And then one day, Steve showed
up with a pretty, white crib in the back of his truck; a crib that made its way
into my car, and then my daughter’s nursery. For free. Again, I was shocked and
dumbfounded that people this nice do exist and I’m still overwhelmed sometimes
when I think about Steve’s gift. If you remember, Dawson and I hadn’t exactly
planned to have a baby, so it’s not really a stretch to say that we
were... scrambling a bit to get everything in order before our monster
princess’s arrival. In giving us the pretty, white crib, Steve not only gave our
baby a place to sleep, but he lifted a huge weight off our shoulders and, like
Albert, reminded us there is good to be found in this world.
I remember once during college, while paying for groceries at the
self-checkout, I used the cash back button to take out $20. Like an idiot, I
forgot to take the money with me, even though that automated voice reminds you
every time to please take your change and your receipt. FYI, I did manage to
take the receipt with me. Anyway, I didn’t realize what happened until I got
home, and since I lived a five minute walk from the store, I raced back to see
if the money was still there. It wasn’t, of course, and I felt so stupid for
having forgotten it in the first place. As I walked home, again, I decided that
instead of being mad about the situation, I was going to believe that my money
had found its way into the hands of somebody who desperately needed it, somebody
who was now able to afford some extra groceries for their family or somebody who
was having a string of bad luck, who thought that finding $20 might just be a
sign of good things to come. Maybe none of that was true, but I think that
believing in something positive, however improbable it may be, is always more
powerful than thinking the worst.
So instead of assuming that some punk found my friend's phone and took it in a
selfish act, we’ll choose to believe that whoever found it needed an iPhone more
than she did. Because that’s what Christmastime is all about -believing in the
good, the magic, that kindness exists and that strangers can give each other
money or cribs simply out of the goodness of their hearts. Merry Christmas to
you and yours, and if you don’t celebrate Christmas, well then Happy Hanukah,
Happy Kwanza, or happy holidays. Or happy whatever. We hope that whatever you
celebrate or don’t celebrate, that your days are filled with joy and love. And
iPhones.
-Alice
