alex the girl

Five years ago, I felt as though I was in a desperate situation; I had to leave the US and Chris while immigration processed and had fled to Canada to stay with friends. I was living in the middle of no where, with no car, no job, and no friends. Any money I made from odd chores went directly to the cost of immigration and long distance phone calls with my fiancé. I stayed with grumpy people in a mobile home without my belongings, my privacy or a life. My ass was so broke and I felt hopeless.

There were pre-packaged paper bags of food for charity in various amounts. I looked into my shabby little wallet and all I had to my name was literally a twenty dollar bill. Then my brain clicked and I picked up a ten dollar bag of food.

My friend who was grocery shopping looked at me with horror and said, "You don't have any money and you're going to spend what you have on that?"

She looked perplexed, wondering how could someone need ten dollars more than I did. So I explained it to her.

"You see, I have something these people might not have - hope. I understand that things are grim right now and that some days I spend my hours in a pitiful heap. But I also understand that life is made up of moments and moments don't last forever. Things are crap right now, but they won't always be like this. I understand that, but maybe some people don't. Maybe, by giving them food, I can give them hope."

I think of that conversation every year when I buy my bags of pre-packaged food during the holidays. Only this year I can buy four bags instead of just one, because I was right - that sad moment I had five years ago didn't last.

< September 2002 | Main | December 2002 >

November 06, 2002

I was just past eleven and it had been over a year since my first surgery. Not only was I able to walk again, I was also able to finally ice-skate.

The temperatures had become cold enough to freeze a small pond nearby and my mum had agreed to take me there. I was excited not only because it would be my first time ice-skating outside, but also because I would be able to show off my skills to my mother. However, when we arrived, I headed straight outside to the pond but my mother did not. She remained in the car, reading.

At first I didn't think much of her actions as I was sure she would come out later to watch my routine. She didn't. Even though I skated haphazardly over the ripples on the pond and lost my footing more than once, I thought I was a better skater than any Olympic champion. I was disappointed that my mum never looked up to watch a dance I was sure that I would one day be famous for.

Ten years had passed and the memory of my mum sitting in the car, engrossed in her magazine and never once watching me, still stung - until I realised something.

My mother hated to drive – especially in ice and snow. My mother hated the cold – sitting in the car without heat made her freeze. My mother also didn't like to read very much due to her lack of English reading skills, yet for over an hour she sat in the cold car, reading to keep busy, and never once complained.

Seeing a different side of that day changed the way I now tell that story. Instead of feeling like some neglected girl whose cruel mother never looked at her, I now feel so special that my mum did something that was uncomfortable for her, so that I would have the memory of skating outside.

Imagine how many other past life events could be changed if only we thought about them from a view outside ourselves.