Our first story is from Kristin Allen, another of our founding members.
Today is National Random Acts of Kindness Day, and the SKP is highlighting stories about neighbors and community members to complement our theme. This story is meant to highlight the huge network of compassion and support that lives right here in our community.
Kindness and Hope from Ashes...
On 11/27/14, Thanksgiving Day, we received a call from one of our neighbors informing us that there was a fire at our home. We drove to Scarborough from Topsham, faster than we probably should have, and arrived by 7pm to find that the entire street was blocked by emergency vehicles, the fire was put out but had ravaged our home, and the firefighters were taking measures to vent the smoke out of the house. Many of our neighbors came out to see us, comfort us, and offered to help us in any way that they could. We lost our two kitties, Ozzy and Daisy, to the smoke (both had made their way to the basement and were found there - Daisy was found that evening, Ozzy was found the next morning). We called the insurance company, met with the fire marshall, and drove back to Topsham to stay with family for the night.
On 11/28, we 'moved in' with neighbors who are very good friends, and who were so gracious to open their home to us. They made sure the kids had a comfortable place to sleep, put us into their spare bedroom. and fed us for several days until we could find a place to rent. That same morning, our insurance agent visited us to give us a debit card to be able to buy clothes, food, and whatever else we needed.
We also got a text from someone, identifying himself as 'a plain-clothes police officer,' who was at our house during the fire. He offered to plow our driveway for the entire winter since we would not be there (something he does on the side). He said, "I know it isn't much, but I really want to help your family; I have a few accounts in your neighborhood, and it would mean a lot to me."
What could I say? Of course, we accepted his offer. To this day, I well-up whenever I recall this story because I know that the men and women who choose public service as their livelihood do so out of the desire to help others. I have no idea who this police officer is - not even his name, but we are forever grateful to him for this gesture.
The generosity and support from everyone was overwhelming, and brings me to tears at times, even today. I can't tell you how humbled we felt to know that so many people care about us - people we know well, but also acquaintances and total strangers. It made this terrible situation easier to bear for sure, since we were able to get what we needed without waiting for the bank
A short list of people we need to thank:
A short list of people we need to thank:
-Chief Thurlow, Chief Moulton, and all of the first responders from Scarborough and from surrounding towns who helped us. Not only did they 'do their job' - but they showed us compassion and gave us hope.
-The 'plain clothes police officer' who was at our home during the fire, and who reached out to us after the fire to offer to plow our driveway for the winter
-Our neighbors - who stood with us while we were in tears watching as the fire was put out; for calling 911, knowing that we weren't home; for sending out an emergency Facebook post to enable someone to get in touch with us; for looking out for us during the entire ordeal.
-To our insurance agent - who also 'did his job' but moreover, he showed compassion, taking things at our pace, giving us time and space but being available any day or time that we needed him.
-The Scarborough Soccer Club, Scarborough High School Booster groups, the Scarborough hockey coaches and families, and the class of 2015 (who held a benefit on our behalf)
-The Scarborough Lions Club and the Pine Point Ladies Auxiliary
-Countless friends and family members whose emotional support and financial support bridged us to the other side of this entire situation.
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| This is a photo of our lilac tree. The significance: every year, robins would build a nest in this tree, and our two kitties used to sit in the window and go nuts over them. We decided to bury them beneath this tree a few days after the fire. When we told our contractor about the tree (Risbara Brothers Construction), they sent out an APB to anyone working on the house that this tree could not be touched of damaged. This photo was taken in the spring, a symbol of hope for me. |
We learned through this process what a wonderful community we have and how very lucky we are to have it.
-Kristin Allen
Second, we have a reflection by Ami DeRienzo.
Letting Go of the Pennies…
When I was a kid I remember walking along the streets of East Boston with my grandmother, an adventure that was unique for my sister and I having spent our entire lives in Maine with little exposure to city life. I remember feeling incredibly excited that Grandma was taking us shopping to spend the cigar boxes filled with pennies that she had given us. We were fascinated by the ride on the trolley and the thrill of exploring a world we had never seen.
One memory from that day has stayed with me all these years. It was the first time that my sister and I had ever seen a homeless person. As we were walking without a care in the world down the cobblestone streets clutching our boxes of pennies, we both stopped short. If I were to describe the scene as an outsider, I can only imagine that our eyes were wide and our mouths slightly agape. I remember being overcome with shock that there was this sad man here and no one was taking care of him. Where was his family? Why would anyone have to beg for food when there were so many people who had so much? I didn’t understand why no one was stopping to help… As I lunged forward to reach out to him, my grandmother’s protective arm wrapped around the front of my chest and pulled me back. “Stay away from him! He’s dirty!”
I remember engaging in one of my earliest debates in that moment. After warning me that my actions would certainly result in a miserable day where I would have no money to spend at the store, in exasperation she finally relented. She reluctantly let go, and I proceeded to give the man my box of pennies. I remember that moment feeling as if I had made a difference, and I had no regrets despite all the gift shops and candy bars that we walked past later in the day. I was a child, and I believed that giving was the right thing to do, whether someone needed a bath or not. When people need help, you help them. That is what we learned in Sunday School, and that is what I believed to be true.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the person that I have become over the years, and it saddens me to realize that in many ways, I have learned to distrust just like my Grandma. In hindsight, I realize that she probably looked at that man and saw a drunk or a con artist or someone who would take advantage of the innocence of a little girl. She wasn’t born thinking this way any more than I was, but over the years her experiences affected her ability to trust. I find that I have also become tainted, and the trusts that have been broken have made it more difficult for me sometimes to give. It is as if my brain automatically goes through this application and scrutiny process whenever I see a need, questioning if the recipient is worthy or if I am being played. Every “Go Fund Me” plea raises red flags of a possible scam, and every individual standing on the street corner holding up a sign is really a millionaire making thousands of dollars a day off of kind and unsuspecting people. I have become suspect that those receiving food stamps may be living the high life, dealing drugs and shooting up government assistance while their children go hungry. This is not who I am or who I want to be. And as I have lost my trust, I have lost the joy of giving. Instead of being that spontaneous child who hands her box of pennies to a complete stranger, I conduct six hours of research to make sure that a cause is worthy or an individual does not have a secret agenda. By the time I actually am ready to give, I find that my quest to do something good is not joyful but surgical and methodical. It no longer feels like giving but becomes another obligation or duty adding to my financial deficit.
This week is Random Acts of Kindness week, and I am challenging myself to give with my heart and not with my head. It is not easy to do sometimes, but I do know that when I find a way to put my cynicism aside and go with my instincts, I almost always walk away feeling a thousand times better than when I allow myself to get stuck. Yes, there are bad people in the world, and every once in a while we will likely be taken for a ride. But for every con artist, there are a thousand individuals in need who could be blessed by a single act of kindness. If we stop giving because of one bad guy in an effort not to get taken, we are not hurting the con artist as they will find other sources and people to scam. Ultimately, we are hurting ourselves and the needy among us by letting the bad guys win. This week I’m letting go of that vice grip on my box of pennies and will try to open up myself up again to giving from the heart.
-Ami DeRienzo
Third, a fellow mom asked me to share this sweet narrative anonymously.
I am Here...
When my youngest was 17 months old, I unexpectedly ended up one evening in the ER with him, and subsequently he was admitted to Barbara Bush with a bad pneumonia diagnosis. The thing was, I didn't get to see my other two kids prior to taking him to the ER and then staying the night with him at the hospital...not only was I worried sick about him, but I was overly emotional about not seeing my 6 and 4 year old, who were home with my husband and mom. I was really missing them and concerned that my 6 year old would have a hard time going to school that morning, knowing her mom and baby brother were in the hospital.
What did I do? I sent an email, from my phone at the hospital, to my daughter's kindergarten teacher, at Pleasant Hill, explaining what was going on & asked her to check in on my daughter and give her some extra TLC.
What occurred was magical...within minutes, this teacher of 18 children, replied to my email with a simple, "On it. If you need anything, I am here. Just ask."
These words provided such a comfort and a sense of relief to me during one of the most stressful times I have had as a parent. I am forever grateful to this teacher for understanding that her job goes beyond the curriculum she teaches. Her act of kindness will never be forgotten... I am forever grateful knowing there are people working with my children, in this district, who have the biggest hearts and care for them like they are their own children. We are so lucky!
-Anonymous Mom
Thank you Kristin, Amy, and "Anonymous Mom" for sharing your stories of kindness! I can't think of a more appropriate way to start this special day.
Great stories of who I believe we all are in the core... kind, gentle, and compassionate people :-)
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