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read ‘Richard Mast, Senior Vice President, Bloomingdales’.
Calgary wasn't immune to random acts of kindness either -- though they were also wrapped in fear and suspense.
Christmases in Calgary were not universally full of cheer. Relying on its renowned oil industry, the city suffered intense cycles of boom and bust.
One year, when he lost his business and their home had been foreclosed, his family was living in a rented apartment and he had been unemployed for months. A few weeks before Christmas, he had found some work in Edmonton, three hours drive north of Calgary. He was returning home by Greyhound bus.
Despite the snow blizzard outside, he was smiling. He was carrying $1,600 in cash (the bank had closed his account): his family would have a fine Christmas after all.
As he stepped off the bus, a wind chill of -40C hit him full in the face. There was no local transport to be seen to take him home. In the distance he spotted a taxi. He ran to it and jumped in.
The taxi driver was sullen and in Arabic garb, his face a bush of hair. The passenger counted the fare in advance, so anxious was he to see his family. As the taxi crunched to a halt, he handed the driver some notes, telling him to keep the change.
His joy turned to weeping when he discovered that, in the rush to count his fare, he had left the sixteen hundred dollars in the cab. He had no clue which cab he had used and no clue who the driver was.
The next day, someone called home. "Did you lose some money in my cab? Can I come and drop it off to you?" The wallet had included his business card with the telephone number on it. All his money was restored to him, the taxi driver refusing any reward for his good deed.
Several days later, he received another call. It was from the local Sun newspaper. "We heard a Muslim taxi driver retrieved your cash. We would love to interview you for a story."
"No thanks," came his immediate and emphatic answer. For months he had