Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Bend over ... trust me

Growing up, I was cautioned to trust no one. My parents were very suspicious of others, particularly those of the non-Korean persuasion. I suspect that their mistrust found its roots in the early days of their emigration to North America, and was no doubt fuelled by their parents' and fellow countrymen's cautions.

As I grew up, my parents constantly chastised my brother and I for our apparent naivete. The fact that we naturally instilled any trust and belief in our friends was considered sheer stupidity. I felt conflicted at the best of times.

When adolescent rebellion set in, I began thinking, in typical teenage fashion, that my parents didn't know much about anything. Therefore this whole mistrust of the world at large was clearly silly. I felt that my parents were too paranoid and needed to rethink their position on others' intentions; not everyone was out to take advantage of us at every turn. Surely some people were good.

"Not so", declared my father from within my head in a Norman Bates' mother-like way.

"Oh. do shut up please," I thought as I resolutely ignored him and continued on my merry way.

As the daughter of a theoretical scientist, I can't help but feel that every hypothesis must first be tested before one could declare it a theory. Therefore, I went to the lab so to speak, and set out to prove my parents wrong, all the while feeling the weight of my parents' disapproval.

About four years ago, I made the acquaintance of a young man in his early twenties. We met in the street right outside of my house. I live in a very quiet middle-class neighbourhood. This particular man was visiting his girlfriend who rented a room in a house two doors away from me. The initial jumping off point of our conversation revolved around the question of ownership of two well-groomed dogs which were wandering up and down the street. Somehow our conversation evolved and within weeks, he was doing some odd manual work for my husband around our house and at one of our investment properties. After work, he would often play basketball with my eldest son and would chat with me. As he was on his own, I sort of took him under my wing.

One day, D. asked me about my large book collection which he had seen in the living room. After we had chatted about what types of books he preferred to read, I then selected several from my shelves and pressed them upon him. It was obvious that he was interested in reading them all, but he was quite reticient and suggested that I lend him one at a time rather than all three at once. I insisted that they were essential reads and that he should take them all at once as I had read them already and wouldn't need them back for awhile. He cautioned me several times that he was an extremely slow reader and that it would take him some time before he would be finished with them.

Shortly thereafter, D's girlfriend moved away from our street and out of neighbourhood. As I never go D's phone number, I lost touch with him.

Now, it should be known that the one possesion about which I am slightly obsessive is my books. Through the years, I have lent out many of my books to various people and have never gotten them back. Since I have a nearly photographic memory, I still remember to this day who has which book.

After D. stopped being a regular in our household, I would often have regrets about having been so reckless in my offer to him. One of the books in particular, had been given to me as a gift by my first love and had an inscription written in it. I felt a certain longing for a book that held a chunk of my past within its covers.

Several years later, I was going through my book shelves sorting through my collection. I thought fleetingly of D. and my lost books and silently cursed myself for having trusted a virtual stranger.

The next night as I was feeding my children dinner, I heard someone knocking at my front door. Our area is heavily canvassed by charities, schoolkids and Jehoval witnesses, so I'm somewhat leery about answering my door if I'm not expecting anyone. I peered out of the window and saw a tall man standing on my front stoop. He called out my name and although I couldn't place him, I thought it was someone I knew, so I opened the door. It took me a minute for the penny to drop before I realised it was D. He looked very different as he was dressed in a suit and had cut his dreadlocks off.

I invited him in and we began chatting about what he had been up to since we had last seen each other. Before we got very far in our conversation, he dashed out the door and ran to his car. He returned with my books and apologised for their late return. Apparently, he had moved many times over since we'd last spoken and had taken the books with him to each place. The most touching comment was that he'd felt honoured that I'd trusted a virtual stranger with my possessions and he had wanted to make sure they were returned to me.

At the time, I remember feeling that this was an important life lesson; that good feelings such as respect and trust which are given out to someone eventually boomerang and find their way home to you just as my precious books did. As I learned in my physics class, energy is never lost.

I'd like to end the story on a good note. Unfortunately, after our fuzzy reunion, D. ended up moving into an apartment in one of our investment properties and stiffed us for about four months' rent with neither an explanation nor an apology. The weird thing is that that did nothing to erase my feelings that he was a person with an honour code in place. (In fact, from what I learned afterwards from others, he was going through an extremely tough time in his life which no doubt contributed to his inability to pay). I suppose it's an indication of how much value I place upon my books.

6 comments:

CoffeeDog said...

What a great story!

Sadly I loaned some heirloom philsophy books to a girl, she never returned them. I'll admit, I was willing to give her more than books, she only took the books and ignored my other gestures. If she had given me the goods, I might be able to forget the books :-)

St. Dickeybird said...

Definately a good story!
I don't loan things like that that I value, unless I can live with losing them.
Normlr has had one of my favourite DVDs for over a year, and he doesn't even like the film!!!!
If I ever find him....

The Wisdom of Wislon said...

Enjoyed the story, I don't lend much, only dvd's at the mo.

It's the only child in me I think. alas

ink said...

Great story, and given his past behaviour, I wouldn't be surprised if one day he turns up at your door with the full amount (plus interest). Sounds like a guy who has good principles, but doesn't always have the wherewithall [now, how many times do you get to use THAT word in a sentence?] to live up to them.

...

And you are perfectly justified in the value you place upon your books.

Snooze said...

I was really inspired at the Golden Child's baptism by the Socratic dialogue that the Reverend (Priest? Canon? - forgive me, I forget his correct title) had with the youth where he said even if you get burned (well okay, he said it better), trust again. I'm glad your trust paid off with the books.

EarthMother said...

Coffeedog: lol It's amazing what we'd do for good sex, isn't it?

Dickey: I don't normally lend things that I really value. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I gave D. those books. I think I thought I was enriching this poor kid's life.

Knottyboy: Well ... I'm not so sure I'd ever rent an apartment to him again. He did some weird things after the fact, but I do think he really wants to be a good guy when it comes down to it. Intention is important.

Wisdom: Welcome. I think there is a child in all of us when it comes down to protecting our toys. I'm extremely possessive about my stuff. I don't even like my kids taking some of things.

Ink: In the end, I think he was quite embarassed and didn't know how to deal with the whole situation. Unfortunately, he didn't handle it as well as I would have liked him to have (eg. just come and explained his problems rather than avoid payment). But he is a pretty young guy ...

Snooze: You always amaze me by what a good godmother you are. I don't even remember the sermon that the Canon had delivered at GC's baptism. I do believe it's important to trust again because otherwise you just end up being this old, embittered hermit who doesn't get to experience all the wonderful things in life that come along with getting kicked in the ass.