Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
A random act of kindness
Just when I was beginning to lose faith in all of humanity, wondering if life was ever going to turn around and go my way for just a second, something occurred that restored my belief that I belong to a universe that actually wants me.
Without going into too much sordid detail, suffice it to say that 2012 has been a tricky year, and each day has been fraught with careful negotiations, long hours, and, when I collapse into bed each night, it takes awhile to fall asleep while I wonder if I did the right things, said the right things, made the right decisions, and have made those around me as happy and safe and secure as is possible at this time. I will not look back on this year as having been one of the easier ones in my life. But life, as they so often guarantee, does go on. And every now and again it throws you a little something that makes you realize it's all worth the while.
I was a vendor at one of the local Christmas craft shows this past weekend, peddling my wares and hanging out with my eldest daughter. Saturday was a pleasant enough day, but I was dog-tired, having come off a particularly tough week, and my head was reeling with all that I had done and still had to do. The vendors next to me were a couple of delightful ladies - one I had worked with in my Wal-Mart days, and one I know as a fixture around Uxbridge - one of those people you see everywhere, and would miss if you no longer saw them, but we'd never been introduced, never really talked.
They had some lovely jewelry spread out on their table, and, as good neighbours do, I thoroughly poked about their business, as it were, fingering and fondling all the necklaces and bracelets and ogling the earrings. I spied one beautiful necklace, and coveted it from the second my eyes laid sight on it. I picked it up, I ooohed and ahhed it, I even tried it on. And looked in the mirror. It's hot pink, black and silvery baubles completely captivated me, and I seriously debated spending money that I hadn't even made yet. Practical me took over, and I decided to gamble with shopping karma, putting the necklace back on the black velvet stand and telling my neighbours that, if it was still there at the end of the day, then I would call it mine. If it wasn't, then it was never meant to be.
The day wore on, and sometime in the afternoon, as I was busy helping out people that were crowded around my table, my new friends called out to me, telling me that someone was holding my necklace, considering my necklace for a purchase, ready to make my necklace hers. My heart did a little skip, but I smiled bravely, shrugged my shoulders and wistfully smiled at my neighbours, showing them that I was willing to admit my defeat. I looked away quickly, partially because I didn't want to see my necklace go to a new home, partially because the stuffed animals I had on a shelf were jumping onto the floor, seemingly on their own.
A short while later, things had calmed down a bit, and I was chatting with a couple of good friends in front of my table. As I was sneaking around behind the table to grab a quick sip of water, one of my neighbours called out to me. I stopped and looked over, and she raised her hand, holding out a turquoise blue bag to me. I took it from her, puzzled. I hadn't dropped it, hadn't lost it, as I didn't own anything that looked like that. She told me to open it, and so I did. I peered inside, and there was my necklace, nestled in the bottom of the bag like it had always meant to be there. I looked up, my mind going off in all directions. Had she noticed how much I liked it, and decided to just give it to me? No, please no. That was just silly. Had I bought it and forgotten the entire incident? Had my desire for sparkly baubles lapsed into shopping amnesia? Just as I was beginning to think I'd truly lost it, my friends explained that a woman had purchased the necklace, asked them to hold it until she was well gone from the building, and then deliver it to me.
It takes a good deal to knock me speechless, but this did the job quite nicely. I stared in disbelief as my neighbours described my mysterious benefactor - black coat, short dark hair, turquoise coloured wrap, another known-about-Uxbridge personality. I racked my brain trying to think of all the people I had seen that day and knew, had spoken with. Who had seen me try on the necklace? Who knew? My friends didn't know her, they just knew to comply with the request, and give me my gift. I couldn't protest, I couldn't give it back. I couldn't speak.
To the lady with the short, dark hair, and black coat who bought me that lovely necklace, thank you. Thank you for helping me feel a little bit better about myself when it's becoming very easy to think the worst. Thank you for brightening my day, my week, my life. Every time I wear that necklace I will think of you and your incredible kindness, and if you ever divulge your identity to me, you are guaranteed one of the biggest hugs you could ever receive.
Thank you.
