017//peace and quiet.

Here are two separate stories, but try to find the subtle connection between them.



Most nights after a long day of classes, my roommate Rob and I like to head home, maybe cook up some rice, and sit on our mac's for a couple of hours, before the homework starts. On the occasional, hungry, day, Rob and I like to stop at one of two places. If it's a warm day: Dairy Queen (we're suckers for blizzards); if it's a cold day: Jumbo 2 for 1 Pizza (we're also suckers for amazing cheap pizza). This week was a rainy week, and Jumbo Pizza sounded so right. So we made our way across the city, to the loveliest hole-in-the-wall you've ever seen. When we pulled into the parking lot, we noticed that two girls were sitting at one of the tables inside the incredibly cramped eating area. We went inside, asked if there was any pepperoni and bacon up, to which we were asked to wait a few minutes. So we sat down at the window bar, and started reading the Vancouver Province that was sitting there. Within about ten seconds of sitting down, one of the girls behind us immediately struck up a conversation. It was pretty strange, most people are not outgoing to strangers, and truth be told, Rob and I didn't feel much like making new friends that day. "How are you guys!?" the one girl asked. We kind of looked over our shoulders, and unenthusiastically gave a sort of "fine" remark. I immediately noticed that there were some World Vision pamphlets on their table, and they were both wearing name tags. At first I was excited to have a conversation with these seemingly nice, potential World Vision employees. Unfortunately, things turned pretty ugly, pretty fast. Almost as soon as the girl asked us how we were, she spewed out, "We work for World Vision, want to sponsor a kid!?" At first I thought she was joking, because I mean who is that ruthless that they try to get people to sponsor kids while they're trying to eat dinner. Rob and I politely said that we were students, and that the truth was we couldn't afford to donate a monthly amount, seeing as we both don't have steady incomes. Rob also noted that his parents were currently sponsoring a child, which incited the girl to question how old we were. We paused and said "21", to which the girls responded by saying something along the lines of, "Well, you're old enough to sponsor your own kid." The honest truth is that I thought they were joking us. We kept declining, but they kept persisting. About two minutes into this "conversation", the girl decided to throw some low blows. "Well, you realize you could afford to sponsor a kid if you stopped drinking beer for a month, right?" Rob and I looked at each other, and responded, "You know, we don't drink all that much." (Rob doesn't at all!) The girls laughed, and said, "Well what if you stopped smoking pot!?" I started to become a little frustrated at this point. "We don't smoke", we said. The girls laughed and said, "Oh, we thought that's why you were here. Eating pizza, got the munchies!" Stupidity and arrogance are not an attractive combination. The girls then continued to tell us how they sponsored kids while they went to school, and how if we were low on cash, we should try to get a job at World Vision. "The high-rollers make at least $15 an hour!" After fifteen minutes of flat out rejection, the girls finally got the point that we were not going to buy one of their children. After we left the restaurant, we tried to figure out what had just happened. Is doing something good, through a dishonorable means, still a good thing? What does it mean to give with a clean heart?

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As we were about to leave the parking lot, we noticed that this guys' car had stalled, and that he was pushing it by himself. It was already pretty dark out, and people were speeding by him pretty fast. Instinctively, Rob and I knew we could give him a hand, so we parked the car, and made our way across the street. By the time we had got to him, he had managed to get the car into a parking lot across from the pizza place. We introduced ourselves, and the guy (Willy) asked if we had some jumper cables. Rob ran to his car to look, and I ran inside of the coffee shop we were by. Rob didn't have any, and neither did the coffee shop. I made my way into a grocery store beside the coffee place, and started politely asking people in lines. It's surprising how many people don't have jumper cables, or perhaps, how many people don't feel like lending out their jumper cables to skinny boys in purples zip-ups. Rob had made his way back to the pizza place, where there was now a large group of World Vision employees (they had all been going door-to-door in the area) inside of Jumbo Pizza. According to Rob, when he asked if they had any cables, they suddenly began to act as if the tables had turned. We didn't sponsor kids from them, but now we need them to do a favor for us? They told him they didn't have cable, without a second thought. All tangents aside, I found someone who had some, and we made our way to the car. It turns out that Willy had some in his car, and we didn't need the kind man's who had offered. Rob moved his car over beside Willy's and they were charging up the battery. With enough juice to get him home, we shook hands, and he told us something that I will never forget.

"You guys really saved me tonight."