Monday, 7 June 2010

Making a Withdrawal from the Karma Bank

I just have to share this.

About six months ago, a dear friend who lives far away had a nasty health surprise that necessitated him quitting his job. In fact, he can't work at all and maybe never will be able to. He has a great network of friends and family, though, who sprang into action to help him out.

He's poor as a church mouse and always has been, but he lives on just about air. So, while the network was collecting the paperwork to get him some kind of disability payment, we were given his bank account number and asked to contribute what we could. So we did that for a while.

Then, spaniard in the works. In order to get whatever measly disability the gov was willing to fork out, the gov needed to look at his bank records and we were told that our contributions would be clawed back.

Plan B. Faraway friends asked to send cash by mail. I have a Scottish grandmother who has strong genes, so this made me very uncomfortable. But I did it. And asked to be told if/when it arrived safely.

No word.

Then, one of the network members fessed up. The mailing address was WRONG and here's the correct one.

I was pissed. It was a largish amount of dough for me. So I put out an appeal to local network members, asking for someone for whom it wouldn't be a burden to provide his or her mailing address and I'd send her or him cheques to be spent as need be.

Someone stepped up and that's what we've been doing.

(For thems as might get sniffy over our gaming the system, the 'emergency' disability the network managed to get, after months of running around mind you, amounts to $650 a month. Not even my pal the church mouse can live on that. Soon, apparently, there will be an update on what the 'regular' disability amounts to. All this takes an amazing amount of time.)

So. Today, I checked my mailbox. In it, with a little yellow sticker on it from Postes Canada Post, was my cash-stuffed envelope returned to sender. Still cash-stuffed.

I mailed it March 30. Today is June 7.

Yay Canada Post!

Or maybe good deeds do attract good karma.

8 comments:

jj said...

What an awesome story!

Thanks for that, it gave me a smile.

jj said...

Oh -- I should add -- sorry that your friend had to go on disability :( but the way this particular story worked out was good. A nice little island in a river of badness.

Anonymous said...

Hwy, I know that you know it's dollar for dollar.
He needs a friend to open a bank account in 'their' name and give him the debit card. Wish him well for me. My google account is f**up.

Luna said...

My friends and I are doing the same for another friend in much the same situation. She's dirt poor, denied disability, exhausted appeals, on major drug cocktails that render her incapable of virtually everything. She's completely confined to her room and the toilet... (this isn't even the half of it). It's nuckin' futs. So, people are paypalling me the money, and I'm sending cash.

So... like your story, my husband went to the ATM on Saturday to get the cash to send. LEFT IT in the ATM. Seriously. Left it there. Went back 45 mins later and found a note with a phone number. Guy didn't want to give his address, so he drove the money back there and returned it to my husband.

Mindblowing.

fern hill said...

Wow, Luna, mindblowing indeed.

I emailed the friend who had given the wrong mailing address to tell him that Canada Post had returned the cash. He had felt so bad. He replied almost instantly: 'Great! Your news made my day!'

Good karma has a long reach. ;)

Anonymous said...

teehee. I assume you meant 'spanner in the works'? Unless i really misunderstood that saying! It's a great story, and I am happy you've gotten your money back!

fern hill said...

Anonymous: It's been 'spaniard' for me since 1965.

Anonymous said...

My soups was stuck in that situation for months (church mouse situation). So I know how life is when you are reduced to that. Thanks. I was feeling depressed and this story raised my spirits a bit. For obvious reasons I won't leave my name this time.

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