I pride myself on being street smart, way too savvy to fall for the latest con or be anybody's bitch - which makes the story I’m about to share with you all the more embarrassing.
It happened several years ago as I was walking home from work, one of those beautiful summer days that seemed to attract all of the out of town tourists. A young man stopped me on the sidewalk, asking for directions. He was from the UK, and as part of his graduation gift his grandparents had given him a trip to beautiful British Columbia. He said it had been a wonderful journey, except for the fact that he had somehow confused his departure date, missing his flight home. Like most young travelers he had spent almost all of his money and was trying to figure out how he was going to find the means to get to the airport - and pay the required penalty for having to reschedule his flight.
I admit, there was a part of me that wondered if he was scamming me – but like most things in life timing is everything. My son Tyler had just returned home from his grand adventure – 6 months exploring South East Asia with a group of friends. While in Cambodia he was swarmed by a group of children, who somehow managed to take his ATM card, credit cards and money. Even though the majority of people living in Cambodia are very poor, they gave new meaning to that old adage “if not for the kindness of strangers”. The good people of a small Cambodian village came to my baby boy's rescue, providing him with food, shelter and even loaning him money to hold him over until Tom and I could help sort things out. Considering everything we had been through, is it any surprise that I had sucker written across my forehead?
The young man and I went to my bank, where I took out $100. When I gave him the money he started to cry real tears. He seemed to be genuinely touched and even asked me why I was being so generous with a total stranger. I explained that he was the same age as my Tyler, and rambled on about the importance of karma and returning good deeds.
Of course when I got home and told Tyler and Tom my story, their immediate reaction was utter disbelief. Months passed and I never heard anything from the young man, who had insisted on taking my business card and promised to pay back every penny.
Fast forward to last week - a middle age man stops me on the street to ask directions – different details but the same routine. Reality check, I finally had to admit that the young man probably conned me.
I've had a few days to think about it and strange as it may seem, I’m okay with it. In hindsight I'm not sure I would do anything different. I still believe in helping strangers.......sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and trust people.
4 comments:
Whether or not he is a con artist is not the real message of your story! In the end, does it really matter? EVERYONE, whether they want to believe it or not, has a God-given conscience dwelling in them...because we are created in His image, we can't help but have it. When one feels in their very spirit to do a kind deed, it isn't a coincidence (I don't believe in those anyway), but God urging you do be His hands and feet. Why? Because He wants to bless us.
I have had MANY angels sent from God in my life to rescue me out of situations. AND I have been an angel on occasion. When you give, you will receive. It's ALL about the heart, and since your intentions were good, it doesn't matter if he was conning you or not. That's not the point. You gave him the pure intentions of your heart AND that is the moral of the story! Blessing WILL come your way.
What you call "karma" is described in the bible over and over again as "a heart matter". The intentions of one's heart speaks VOLUMES! That is why it's important to do a "good" deed with the right intentions...for where is the blessing if one's intentions are just to BE blessed instead of TO bless? There is none. God promises us that no good deed is overlooked when the heart is pure!
God saw and is pleased. That is the true moral of this story.
When I was young I watched my dad get conned in a similair but much less sophisticated way. It was a First Nations woman with stonewashed jeans and a sob story about a tough Xmas for her and the kids. I watched him give her a twenty (a princely sum at the age of ten!)- he totatlly bought her tale of woe.
Even at ten, I knew he'd been conned - the fool, but I didn't really mind because I was impressed. This woman had got a cool twenty out of my tight, miserly, Liverpudlian father within 5 minutes of meeting him. A feat of herculian proportions!
She'd earned her dough.
I also realized that anyone working the streets concocting these stories with the gall to try them out on strangers, mustn't have a very nice life to start with.
I AGREE with this part of what Tyra says (SOUND THE ALARM!): "It's ALL about the heart, and since your intentions were good, it doesn't matter if he was conning you or not. That's not the point. You gave him the pure intentions of your heart AND that is the moral of the story", but seriously doubt you are counting on a repayment in blessings for your troubles!
Praise be,
Sarah
Mika, thanks for this. You reminded me of this story:
Many years ago--I was 15--I had finally saved up enough pennies to realize my adolescent dream of taking the train across Canada.
So I packed up my cash, took the bus all the way from Richmond downtown to the train station--a very long journey in those pre-Canada Line days--and stood in a line only to be told I had miscalculated the fees and I was $5 short. Five dollars!
Now this was the days before ATM cards and I was too young for a VISA (which was called ChargEx, back then), and so I was faced with two choices: go all the way back home by bus and make a return trip--or beg.
So I sussed the faces in the waiting room looking for someone suitably "mom-ish"--and found a nice lady from the Prairies (not unlike my own Mom).
I told her my (authentic) story and promised to pay her back and long story short, she gave me the money, I bought my ticket and had a fantastic trip a few weeks later.
I honestly honestly honestly meant to pay that kind woman back, but somewhere between station and home and school and work, I lost her address and never did commit her name to memory.
It still bugs me to think that that trusting lady is out there, still thinking she was ripped off by a nice young girl in Vancouver.
And so, like you, I try to pay it forward whenever I can--except for those guys who keep hitting me up on the waterfront stretch by the convention centre...!
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