Urban Hitchhiking: A Testament to Human Kindness
February delivered a snowfall to southern Ontario that I can’t remember seeing since I was a kid. It’s amazing how we can diminish or forget the impact snow has on our everyday lives, and how the rapid accumulation on streets impacts our ability to drive, walk and generally carry one. Thankfully the storm occurred on the long-weekend, giving me a false hope that commutes would align with the usual timelines. It wasn’t the case.
Tuesday was already a flurry of driving and walking around, and my ill-prepared footwear sent me to bed with a chill. I smartened up on Wednesday, knowing the streets were not receptive to my cute boots, and set out for a day full of meetings wearing a practical, warm, (and ugly) outfit, increasing my confidence to face all the sludge, ice and mounds that would come my way.
Meeting two on Wednesday was at First Canadian Place in downtown Toronto, a place usually reached with (relative) ease. However, a late departure and the congested roads required a quick change of plans in order to arrive on time. I abandoned my car and hopped on the subway, seizing the opportunity to settle into my seat and respond to waiting emails.
Now, this next hiccup I blame on the builders of Toronto’s subway…(and obviously on the fact that I wasn’t paying attention). Nose in the phone, I heard my stop and exited. Heading to the stairwells I was a little confused, but chalked it up to the chaos of the day. Stepping onto the street was when I realized this was the wrong stop: St. Patrick, not St. Andrew - certainly there must have been more names to choose from?!
At that moment I was a bit frozen - do I go back down for the final two stops, do I try to walk the streets, navigating the disaster on the sidewalks? No, I decided to Uber. Entering the first car that pulled up created some confusion, with the realization that it wasn’t for me. Standing on a snowbank I checked for my car, which was still over 8 minutes away, plus another 5 to drive; this is where the worry of being late hit its peak. My muscle-memory kicked in as I waved to passing taxis. No bites, and the clock ticked away.
And then the solution arrived. There, on University Avenue, was a coffee delivery van whose driver was just returning, and at that moment I made a decision. Stepping gently down from the snow, so as not to alarm this man who was about to make my day, I made the ask. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I knew enough to pepper the request with being late, being apologetic and emphasizing that it’s not too far and could it possibly be on his way? He hesitated at first but ultimately agreed, likely motivated by some pity.
In the five minute drive we commiserated on the weather, perpetuating our Canadian stereotypes, and how it was the biggest snowfall he’d ever seen, having only arrived a few years ago. I told him to share his good deed with friends and family, and he asked that I not name the company he worked for. With our verbal contract sealed we wished one another well and said a final goodbye.
The events that lead to this leap of faith culminated in a momentary snapshot, but mirrored my belief in the good of humanity. If you read to the end of this story I’m inviting you to reflect on your reaction, and how that perspective shows up in your daily decisions.