Perceptions

Yesterday as I was reading from Gregg Braden's book and transcribing some of the content to my Blog, a woman in her early 30s approached me with a folder, ID card and tin. Sensing a solicitor, I was on guard immediately. She introduced herself but I was barely listening, my automated "No, thanks" response was on the tip of my tongue. I asked her to re-introduce herself and she showed me her paper ID, then presented me with a home made binder containing local articles from newspapers and magazines in various languages describing a home for disabled children run by a lady named Dhanapakiyam. One article showed her receiving an award from Reader's Digest for her humanitarian efforts and how she turned her life around - the only Malaysian ever to receive one.

She said, "I volunteer at this place and today is my off day but I'm going around town looking for donations. I'm hot and tired. Could I please sit down with you?" I pulled out a chair for her and took a good look at the contents of the binder. This woman was selling decals as a form of donation, each one cost $10 and it showed a simple winking moon faced character holding a badminton racket swatting at a shuttlecock. "The children designed it" she explained. I was moved out of admiration for her zeal and compassion for the people living in the home. I pulled out $50 and handed it to her in exchange for 5 decals. She thanked me and then left.

Today I had a conversation with my parents and I described the incident to them. "I'm afraid you were scammed" came their response. I adamantly rejected the claim. My father said, "I had the same thing happen to me recently, I asked the guy to give me an address to mail the check and he paled." He went on, "These people are all over town, you can't trust them." I felt like a fool as I often did with my parents and I was torn, the feeling of joy that I had helped people in need was mutating into bitterness and dejection. "It's the thought that counts" was their consolation. This was the standard excuse for people to brush off others in need, I didn't want this to be the last time I gave to a charity worker in the street. I needed to still believe that there ARE people that can be trusted when reaching out for help in such a way.

I turned to Google and looked for the phone number of the home in the town she mentioned. I called the number of a place that matched the description. The lady that answered told me that they DID have a charity drive last month but they used a blue form that was filled out on location. They did not authorize people to solicit donations on their behalf in the street. The numbness was setting in... before I hung up I asked just to be sure, "who is the person in charge? Is she an Indian lady that received an award from Reader's Digest?" She said it wasn't, she didn't know whom I was speaking of. I asked, "Is there another home such as yours in that town?" She didn't know of any other.

I tried again on Google. this time I looked for the name of the Malaysian lady (whom I couldn't recall) by typing in Readers Digest and Malaysian award. It's amazing how little publicity this sort of thing gets as opposed to terrorist acts and other dehumanizing forms of news. There were few articles returned and even then the first few were irrelevant hits. Finally I found one that did describe the event. It mentioned her name and I used her name along with the town to track down her phone number. I called her and a small voice answered on the other side. I asked her, "Is this Danapakiyam?" She confirmed it was and I introduced myself then described the events of the day before. "Yes, that is correct." she responded. Relief and joy flooded through me.