The Basket

...a story of human kindness
& consideration...

It happened a number of weeks ago, almost a month now. We were on our way home after spending some time at the family cabin, with friends and our oldest son. The cabin is about a 4 hour drive north, into the wild of our province, in an area known as The Cariboo. To get there we take a stunning drive through The Fraser Canyon. The Canyon is an area of diverse & spectacular landscape with small, unique towns speckled along the way....
We had stopped at a campsite along the river, called GoldPan. We stayed there many years ago, when our boyz were much younger, in our old blue Westfalia. I had always wanted to stay there. Ever since I was a child, driving by it countless times as my family drove down to the mainland to visit my mom’s family.
The campsite had been closed now for the third summer, and I wanted to read the sign that was posted at the top, to see what that plan was with this site. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t closed for good, as it is such a special place.
While we were there, I was not aware that when my husband let our dog out, he had pulled out ‘The Basket’ as well. I was too busy reading the sign and taking in the beautiful sights this spot has to offer. It was not till we were at home, and I needed to exchange my prescription sunglasses for my regular glasses, that I went looking for it.
So. Before we go any further, I think it only right to let you know that ‘the basket’ my basket, goes with me most places and carries in it my life. My life looks like, my journal(s), content I am working on, client forms I am reviewing, the book I am reading at the time, personal spiritual items, my wallet, glasses, personal items, etc etc, you get the idea….my life.
I wasn’t at all shaken when I went to where I left it, in the truck, and it was not there. I assumed my man had already removed it and put it somewhere I was not aware of. Part of that was true, only where and when he had removed it was yet to be revealed. When I asked him where he put my basket, the colour drained from his face as he realized, he had removed the basket from the truck, 2 hours up the highway, when letting our dog out and did not put it back in….
At this point I feel it best to skip ahead a few minutes when he promptly leaves our home to make the 2 hour drive back to where ‘The Basket’ was left. I think it goes without says that I was beside myself, and if it does need to be said, I was beside myself. Full disclosure, I may have been losing it a little. So much so you can hear my scream on the security camera as my husband is leaving the house to drive back to the scene of abandonment. (Later, when having dinner with our neighbours, she recalled the scream and was alarmed, thinking someone was being hurt.)
It was a long shot really. A really…long…shot. AND in that moment, he felt there was nothing else he could do but try. And it may have been safer for him to be away from me in that moment. Lol (just keeping it real)
I was pacing through my home as I went over, in my mind, all that was in my basket. I felt sick. My head hurt. I was angry, I was sad, I was scared, I was all the things! And, in this moment there was nothing else I could do, other than continue to unpack from our trip and pray for the best.
Not 15 minutes after my husband had gotten on The Road to Redemption, my cell phone rang.
It was the RCMP.
This could be good, yes????
Gratefully, yes, it was good news!
He had my basket. It was now almost 3 hours past the time when we were at GoldPan and the story the Corporal shared with me was that a couple had seen him parked and pulled over to give him ‘the basket’ letting him know where they had picked it up. He had taken it from them, walked it over to his cruiser, turned around to get their information, and they were gone.
He then went through my belongings, found my contact information and immediately called. I let him know that my husband was on his way back up, with the hope of finding it. I gave him his cell phone number, and graciously he called and told my husband he would meet him somewhere more central, so he would not have to drive up so far. I was so grateful and my husband, as you can well image, was relieved.
The part of this story that I was sad about was not having the opportunity to thank the people who picked it up and turned it in. So energetically I did what I could to send them gratitude and appreciation.
Then, gratefully, a week later, I received an email from Dan. He was the one who had turned it in. He was checking in to find out if I had be notified about it being found, received it, and wanted to make sure that all my belongings were intact. I was beyond grateful to receive this email. (He had found me by googling my name and found my website.)
We emailed back and forth and couple times in which I asked questions and he could share with me the story around ‘the basket’ which I loved hearing.
So, all ended well for me and my basket. AND more than that, I share this to give space for the story of human kindness and consideration. So much of the narrative today has us fighting against one another, tells us we are divided, polarized. And though I understand there might be some truth to that, it is not everything and everyone. The simple kindness of strangers is happening all the time. It is quiet. It is humble. It does not need a soap box. It is nature.
I felt it important to share.
I know it is just a basket, I know it is just three people who helped us, and maybe it is small in the grand scheme of things…AND it was ‘The Basket’, carrying important and sacred items for me; and this story of kindness has been heard by many, and now you, and every soul I have shared it with has been touched by it, in some way; even bringing tears to some. This feels important. This is how we cause ripples that create life and sustainability. This is how we heal. It is small choices like these, the single threads, the care given, the moment taken, that feed the natural healthy flow between humans, that tends the good stories. We are a pack animal. What happens between us matters. We can breathe in life, or we can breathe in death. The choice is ours.
Here I remain.
A special thanks to Dan (& his girlfriend) and John, and to all those who didn’t disturb ‘the basket’ allowing it to remain for the right soul to retrieve it.

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