Reaching for the brass ring
I was hanging out with the Butcher of Prague after work last night for a little ‘minor’ (his words – not mine) dental surgery. Considering the way my mouth feels this morning ‘minor’ is obviously a relative term. When I left his office, I actually didn’t feel too bad, and I took his advice and scarfed down a couple of codeine tablets before I went to bed. So the full effect of the ‘minor’ surgery was only felt this morning.
I refer to my dentist as the Butcher but the truth is that it’s a testament to his great skill that I still have teeth left – and ‘hollywood’ quality teeth at that. Although, I do remind him he is the only man in my life who regularly and routinely makes me cry. I walked out of the office chatting with his dental assistant who stayed extraordinary late just to accommodate my schedule. She’s a young mother and a recent immigrant to Canada from Iran. The only family or friends she has in this country is her young son and husband. I admire their courage in leaving everything behind to come to a new place to start over. We are a lucky country to still attract these kinds of people to our shores.
We chatted all the way to the line-up in the local coffee shop where I insisted on buying her coffee for her long trek back to the outer-edges of Scarborough. She actually tried to insist on buying my coffee and it was quite humorous engaging in the whole – ‘no, let me buy it – oh, no let me’ elaborate exchange. I only won because she allowed me to and she only allowed me to because it meant more to me than her.
Actually, I am always touched by the ritual kindness which so often characterizes anyone from the region. It reminds me that the kind of hospitality and generosity towards others that I was raised with is still not entirely dead in this country. It was important to me because I wanted her to know that I did appreciate the fact she stayed late to accommodate my needs. I recognize the Butcher paid her for her time and services but money isn’t the great balm for everything, nor does it adequately replace a mother’s time with her child or husband.
The woman who left the office strained and tired after standing on her feet all day walked into the subway with a smile on her face which was well worth the price of a coffee in my book. My whole point in writing this is to remind everyone who reads this that there are a million little inconsequential acts of kindness we can perform for the people who routinely cross our paths, and if we are lucky enough to be able to commit one act of kindness for another, it shouldn’t be an opportunity we allow to slip out of our hands.
