We stopped in the middle of the wooden bridge and leaned on the railing, taking in the breathtaking sight. The slight mist in the air wrapped around us, inviting us into the moment, as we watched the water cascading before us. It was beautiful, majestic, persistent and powerful. The water dropped heavily and noisily into a churning, foamy pool below. At the bottom of that waterfall, it was complete chaos. And that kind of chaos is where this story begins...
It was Friday evening. I arrived home from a stressful week at work with nothing on my mind but escaping into some TV crime drama with witty banter and a problem that is solved within an hour. That is not the evening that followed.
Around noon that day we'd had our oil tank filled, and sometime between then and our arrival in the evening, the tank's legs had given out and it tipped over, shearing off the valve and pouring every drop onto the floor. Our basement floor had a drain in it and the majority of the oil began arriving at the wastewater treatment plant well before we knew any of this was happening.
$900 of oil. Gone. And we hadn't even paid for it yet.
That tank might as well have fallen directly on me from the weight I felt. And the darkness. I felt dizzy and sick - at first simply because of the waste of $900. I had no idea how long this dark tunnel was going to be.
I learned a lot of lessons within the first few days of this.
1. People you consider friends may refuse your request for help when disaster strikes, if helping is inconvenient for them.
2. People you think are allies may turn on you when you most need them to be understanding.
3. People you think are your enemies may surprise you by not trying to capitalize on your disaster.
4. And people you don't even know may just surprise you in ways you could never imagine.
I'll only tell one of those stories.
I was at work when I got a call from the chief of police. Already feeling defeated and terrified about what was happening and all its unknowns, I listened with dread to what he had to say. I knew my spill had affected -and angered - one neighbor, so my mind raced ahead of his words, assuming something else had gone wrong; someone else had complained. He introduced himself and said he was proud to serve as chief of police in our community. He said as the chief of police, the concerns of the people in his community become his concerns. My heart was sinking with every word. I was sure this was leading somewhere very bad. Someone he cared about was angry. He went on to say that he'd heard about our oil spill and that he and some of his "friends in the community" were concerned about our family. Did they think our kids weren't safe? I only heard every few words for a moment while I felt a waterfall hitting me relentlessly, depriving me of oxygen. Until he said something I'll never forget: "we would like to help you - and send you some oil when your tank is ready."
I was suddenly drowning under waves of various powerful emotions: relief that I wasn't in some kind of trouble; astonishment that someone who knew nothing about us wanted to help; gratitude for the unexpected show of concern for our well-being; and an unfamiliar sense of belonging and acceptance in our community.
There were other good things that have happened - and are still happening - in this story. But I hold on to that moment as confirmation that there really are good people in this world.
And they are not always where you expect to find them.
