I get that it’s easier to walk through a door and not hold it open for the person behind you or to look-through the cashier scanning your groceries instead of seeing her. I know how good it feels to flip someone the bird when they cut you off or to purposely not let someone merge into your lane just because.
When I was 17, to say I was a mess is an understatement. I was into drugs and alcohol, had dropped out of school and wasn’t listening to my parents. Finally, at the end of their rope they kicked me out of the house. I had enough money to rent an apartment for a month with a friend who had also been kicked out, our place became a drug and alcohol infused drop-in centre and by the end of the month we were on the streets. For a few weeks, we lived on those streets, nomadic, spending a few nights here and there.
At some point we hooked up with friends of a friend who took us in and let us stay with them. It wasn’t free – we had to clean, and if there was food, cook. In return we had a roof over our heads and as much drugs and alcohol as we wanted. Sam and Leon (not their real names) didn’t work, they supported themselves through illegal activities – selling drugs, break and enters…whatever they could do they did. There was a core group of six of us who lived in the apartment, but there were always people coming and going. It's all a blur, really.
Throughout this time, I still kept in touch with my parents, either calling or visiting once a week. But my spiral downwards continued and I was in such a haze, I stopped both.
Then came the day Sam and Leon decided we should drive to BC to visit another friend - we had a whole plan that involved mushrooms. But with six of us in a car it was too cramped so they stole another one. It was me, Sam and Leon in one car - my friend and another two in the other.
It was when we entered a small town in Saskatchewan the shit hit the fan. As we drove along the highway the lights on the RCMP car driving in the opposite direction turned on, he pulled a U-turn and came after us. We threw anything stolen – ID’s, credit cards…everything - out the windows into the wheat fields beside the highway and finally came to a stop. We didn’t get it all.
We were taken to the headquarters where they separated the three of us. This would be the first time I talked to Don, the RCMP officer who arrested me...and the man who changed my life.
He took me into his office and sat me down in a chair. He was holding on to the only piece of ID I had left, my student card, with my perfectly feathered hair and purple eye shadow. The girl in front of him was greasy, with large dark circles under her eyes, exhausted to the core – not even a hint of the smiling high school girl in the picture. He looked at my picture and looked at me, shaking his head slowly.
How did you get here Sharon?
I wish I could say I broke down then and there and sobbed for him to help me. But my loyalties were currently with the two men in the cells down the hall who had taken me in when I had no where else to stay. I was 17, they were adults. They would go to jail, I wouldn’t - or so I naively thought. Instead of asking for help, I did the unfathomable. I told Don I had stolen the car, that the stolen goods inside the trunk were from a break-in I had done and all the stolen credit cards were mine. He took out a piece of paper and wrote down my confession, at the very end, I signed my name.
Then Don did the unfathomable.
He picked up the phone, called his wife and told her he wanted to bring me to their home.
And he did. He brought me home where I showered and ate dinner. Don spent the evening on the phone trying to convince my parents to take me back – eventually he succeeded. He then paid for my bus ticket back to Winnipeg.
Don drove me to the bus station and I promised to stay in touch, but I was a 17 year old little shit who didn’t yet understand the kindness he had paid me.
When we pulled into the bus station, I was scared beyond belief. My parents would be there to pick me up, I hadn’t seen or talked to them in weeks. The doors opened and instead of my parents, there stood Sam and Leon. So I went with them instead.
A warrant was issued to bring me in and return me to my parents, and eventually I made it home. But not before I had broken their hearts and removed any sense of trust they had in me.
In the coming months there were many court dates, Don was instrumental in having my charges dropped–we both knew I hadn't done what I said I did and that I had made a terrible decision but it was his words that helped others understand that as well–he convinced everyone involved I was worth taking a shot on.
I kept in touch with Don for about a year, but I was still in my own dark hole and hadn’t gotten to the point of getting out. We eventually lost touch.
Thankfully the story doesn’t end here.
Fast forward ten years - I’m engaged to Paul, he who saveth me from my eating disorder, and I start to think about Don because in my heart, I know if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be here. So one day at work, I found the RCMP website and wrote an email. I explained my story and how Don had helped me and I wanted to get in touch with him. I ended it by saying I knew they couldn’t give me Don’s private contact information but if someone could get in touch with him, here was mine.
Half an hour later my phone rang, it was Don. The moment I heard his voice, I burst into tears and finally after ten years I was able to tell him how thankful I was for what he did. When I asked why he did it he simply said, I just saw something in you that you weren’t seeing in yourself.
And that's why being kind is important to me. Big or small, you never know how your kindness can change a person. Don didn't do anything on a grand scale, he offered me a meal, a shower and belief in a girl who was lost.
So on those days when you find it's easier to let the door go instead of holding it, think about me. Because Don’s random act of kindness changed a life.
Yours could too.
As an aside, because of the email I sent when I was looking for Don, he was given an award for going above and beyond, in his job and as a person, and he was given a promotion. When you put good out into the world, it eventually comes back. This I know.
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