The Ripple Effect

How’s that theory go? A butterfly dies in a Peruvian rainforest and across the other side of the world we get the staggers?

A gunman goes mad (yet again) in the US and we all hug our children a little closer to our hearts and are made even more aware of the frailties of human existence.

Or a man I barely know loses a prolonged battle with cancer and some twelve months after his passing he reaches out indirectly to our Gang of Four and provides us with a financial boost that can’t possibly be measured in dollars.

You see, he was fortunate enough, or clever enough or just mindful enough to raise a daughter who believes very strongly in the power of passing it on.

They migrated to this country from Scandinavia when she was twelve; she had to learn a new language and a new culture very, very quickly. Her father was away for months at a time with his work so it was often just her Mum and her two sisters. Her mother sadly passed away when our friend was barely a mother herself.

Having struggled a great deal in her life with the kind of childhood traumas no one should endure and then- maybe because of that - sustain two disastrous relationships, she came into our lives several years ago a single mum with very little to support her but a determination to succeed and provide a good life for her little girl.

She ran a cafe when we first met. It was a great cafe; atmospheric, great food and her vibrant personality meant she had a loyal group of customers. It wasn't enough though. Maybe it was a bad position; maybe the overheads were too great. The end result was she had to close down and was left with a mountain of debt she couldn't jump over.

She didn't give up though. Don’t get me wrong; she certainly had some dark and down times and maybe without her daughter as motivation she may have found it hard to keep going, but she toughed it out. It wasn't easy for her to do so but she let friends support her emotionally or in whatever way they could. By this time she was in a relationship that looked like it was here for the longhaul. As Etta James so soulfully sang...”At last...”

She took any job she could. She delivered parcels, she cleaned toilets, she worked in a warehouse as an office administrator and all the while she was generous of spirit. When she didn't have money, she gave freely of her time. I remember when we were forced to sell our house, the sheer muscle she brought to the project of moving was phenomenal, never mind the food and the emotional strength when we sometimes were found wanting.

Then her father’s cancer returned after several years in remission and she juggled job, marriage and motherhood to fly regularly interstate to help care for and support him.

When he eventually passed away, he left his three daughters with an inheritance that meant for the first time she had breathing space. I know she would trade it all in if she could have her Dad back – in a heartbeat. That said, she is determined to use it well and to give herself and her daughter and husband a good life in the true sense of the word. She has finally found happiness in a relationship, she has discovered a job she loves and is good at (teacher’s aide) and intends to study and take it further. In the midst of the sadness of losing both her parents at a relatively young age she has found real happiness and contentment.

A big part of living the good life for her is sharing the love. Family, friends, working at her art (she’s a potter and sculptress) good times, great company, singing, laughter and always good food and wine to lubricate the process!

Yesterday was one such day. She shared the love; she didn't just bring food and wine and laughter to the table. She also, quietly and without any public announcements or fanfare, slipped a cheque into our astonished palms and also that of our girls. She knows we've had a tough road. She’s been there herself. As BB and I stood there gaping and tear-filled in the back of the house and away from the festivities she simply said. “ We've done everything we wanted to with Dad’s help, so we just wanted to share the joy.”

I'm not saying how much – it’s irrelevant really. Anyone who has ever struggled financially knows that even $10 that you didn't know you had can make life a little easier; lunch, ingredients for a simple supper, a top up of the fuel tank. Of course, it was a tad more than a tank of petrol, this gift we've been given. Suffice to say, with one girl starting uni next year and the other heading into senior school and all of the other little challenges that all seem to strain our purse strings and come to a head at this time of year; it was a joyous and unexpected gift which we intend to also use wisely and well. Our heads are spinning; which bill to pay first, where we can spend it to maximum benefit, particularly for our two beautiful girls who have often gone without and have never ever complained about what they didn't have. I guess maybe because what they did have couldn't be measured in dollars and cents and to them has been worth more anyway. That’s not to say a little bit of material comfort isn't welcome!

Part of using it well for me will be passing it on. In some small way I will be making sure that the story of a Scandinavian ship’s captain will have another chapter; that at least one more person will feel the ripple effect.

With a huge thank you to our benefactor and a promise to keep the spirit she embodies very much alive at this time of year or indeed any other, Merry Christmas.