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been hiding from the taxman and a host of creditors -- he refused to go bankrupt. He was damned if he was going to give himself away.
"Since the September 11 attack in New York, many Muslims, including your taxi driver, have been harassed. It would really help if we could publish a good news story about them -- and particularly at Christmas." The reporter was persuasive, and after all, he did owe so much to the driver.
"As long as it's a small article and published somewhere in the back of the paper, I'll do it."
The reporter came to see him on a Thursday with a photographer at her side.
"Can you show me the cash?"
He did.
"Now, can you hold the notes like a fan in front of your face?"
Again, he did as he was told.
When it was over, he asked, "When will the story appear?"
"Most probably Sunday, depending on what other stories there are at the time."
On the proffered Sunday, he walked over to the nearest Tim Horton's to peek at the paper. Passing a Sun newspaper stand, he stopped and started to tremble. They had planted him on the front page, in colour, waving a wad of hundred-dollar bills. It took him minutes to find some coins and steady his fingers to drop them into the machine and obtain a copy. And there he was, his balloon face covering the whole front page with directions to the story within.
For weeks he received calls from his friends about the story. "Did you know...." Luckily for himself and his family, there were none from the government or his creditors.
Every year, be they Christian or Muslim, New Yorkers or Calgarians, Angels of Christmas came to visit him to remind him of the miracle of compassion.
In Bloomingdales, he bid farewell to the SVP and hurried through the store searching for his family before the store closed.