COLLEGE

"Mrs. Ballantyne, please tell me more about your break of a lifetime."

"I thought college was out of the question.  I was resigned to finding whatever work I could after high school, but I had nursed a secret desire to go to college.  Besides tennis, I had nothing else to do but study study study.  I made straight A's, but what difference did that make?  I was a girl.  I had been raised in a family that did not value education for girls.  In the eyes of Aunt Virginia, girls don't need to go to college.  They learn how to put on makeup, look pretty, get married and get pregnant.  That was how she did it and now it was my turn.  Besides, what difference did it make if I wanted to go to college.  There was no money in our home.  Money was very tight during the Depression." 

"So how did you pay for college?"

"That is a very strange story.  It started with George.  I had given up on college.  Seriously, I had no idea where the money would come from, so I ordered myself to quit thinking about it because it made me so depressed.  Then one day my brother George sent me some money he had saved up. Thanks to this money, I was able to attend University of Mary Hardin-Baylor, a women's school in Belton, Texas."

"But that doesn't make any sense.  I thought you said George was poor just like you."

Before answering, Mrs. Ballantyne hesitated.  She appeared to wrestle with what to say next.  

"Yes, George was very poor.  Do you really want to know where I got the money??"

My eyes widened at the strange look on her face.  I nodded and said yes.

Mrs. Ballantyne frowned.  "Back when you and my children went to St. John's, this was a story I did not dare tell anyone.  However, my children are grown now, I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you the inside story of my break of a lifetime." 

After a decided pause, Mrs. Ballantyne lowered her voice.  In a whisper, she said, "This is not a story I tell very many people.  To be honest, when I saw the money order that came with George's letter, I was very skeptical.  I was almost certain there was something George was not telling me.  I knew for a fact that George could barely pay his own way to A&M.  For that matter, the previous year, George had almost gotten himself thrown out of Texas A&M because he could not pay his tuition.  So where did this money come from?  Unfortunately George refused to tell me for the longest time.  He was so secretive I thought he had robbed a bank. 

I was worried about George, but maybe the less I knew, the better.  Let's not kill the golden goose.  I was enjoying my newfound freedom too much to lose this college opportunity by being nosy.  However, I was very lonely.  Although I loved college, I was still the shy, unwanted girl.  Finding men to date at a women's college was something of a challenge, so after a while I didn't bother looking anymore.  I found it was easier just to concentrate on my studies instead."

Then, after a brief pause, she added with a wink, "And play tennis.  I played lots of tennis."

Her tennis was my basketball.  No doubt we both would have gladly traded our sport for a love life, but such was not meant to be during college.

"Did you ever find out what George was hiding from you?"

"George knew how much I wanted to go to college.  I made very good grades, but it all seemed futile.  My aunt and uncle had children of their own to worry about and my father barely knew I was alive.  My college chances looked bleak. So just as I was about to finish high school, out of nowhere George sent me a letter with money enclosed.  The letter said George wanted to pay my way to the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor, a women's school in Belton, Texas.  I knew from the start something was fishy, but George was at A&M, so it was easy for him to hide the story from me.  When I finally learned the truth.  I was stunned.  Sam Maceo was paying my way!  I couldn't believe it.  I had not seen Mr. Maceo in over two years.  He not only remembered me, he wanted to help." 

"Why do you suppose Mr. Maceo did that?" I asked.  "I mean, paying your way to college was quite a gesture."

Mrs. Ballantyne smiled.  "That is a very good question.  I have George to thank.  He was the one who paved the way."

"What did George do to help you get a scholarship from a mob boss?"

"Sam Maceo was an immigrant from Sicily who knew how tough it was to get established in the U.S.  He had a soft spot for the immigrant families on Galveston Island.  Mr. Maceo took a special interest in me thanks to my brother George.  He had helped George out of a really tough spot a couple years earlier.  That is quite a story.  George was in danger of getting kicked out of school because he could not pay his monthly tuition.  Back in those days, Texas A&M didn't cut anyone a bit of slack.  You paid your monthly tuition on time or you left school.  George was so broke he was certain he would have to drop out of school.  This drove him crazy because his education meant the world to him.  George was desperate to continue, but he had no one to turn to and time was running out."

"You said earlier that Sam Maceo knew you from the restaurant, but did he know George?"

"I'm not sure.  You are right, Mr. Maceo knew me through my uncle's restaurant.  However I don't recall their paths crossing because George lived on the other end of the island.  If forced to guess, Mr. Maceo might have met George once or twice because he knew my father.  If so, at best George was no more than a pebble on the beach to this busy, important man.  Meanwhile George was at his wits end.  It was his Junior year in college.  Throughout college George had worked all sorts of odd part-time jobs, but for some reason the day came when all his sources of money dried up at once.  George was frantic.  He had no one to help him.  His friends at A&M were just as broke as he was, his father had never offered a dime, no rich uncle, nothing.  But George was and still is the most determined man I ever met.  His entire existence was wrapped around his education.  George despised our father, but he had exhausted all other options.  That left George with no choice but swallow his pride.  George wired our father to see if he could help.  When my father got the wire, as usual he was broke.  No surprise there.  I suppose the poker cards had not been breaking his way.  But Mike knew George would not have asked unless he was desperate.  Before he replied to George with the bad news, Mike decided to go see if his boss Sam Maceo could help. 

I don't know the exact words, but I know the gist of it.  Mike went up to the Godfather and said, "Mr. Maceo, my son George is the top student in his engineering class, sir.  He studies really hard!  But he has run out of money and the school is going to kick him out if he can't pay.  Do you think you can help?"

Without a word, Sam Maceo reached in his pocket, pulled out a billfold and handed my father a hundred dollar bill.  Mike's eyes grew wide.  That was a lot of money in those days, a lot of money, maybe the equivalent of five, ten times that amount today.  Typical of my father, he knew George only needed $39.  So my deadbeat father went to a bank and split the money in half.  He wired a $50 money order to George and kept the other $50 for booze, babes and gambling.

Meanwhile George had no idea what was going on.  All he knew was that his father had come through.  What a break!  But here's the odd thing.  Mike had not told George where the money came from.  Unbelievable.  Mike steals half the money and pretends to be the hero.  That's my father for you.  What a champ!"

"So how did George find out what really happened?"

"The way I understand it, Sam Maceo went behind my father's back.  Mr. Maceo was a very intelligent man.  He found it very unlikely that a loser like my father had a son who was the top student at A&M.  This was so difficult to believe that he was curious to know if my father had been telling the truth or just trying to hustle some gambling money.  So Mr. Maceo made inquiries.  Not only was my father telling the truth, he learned that George was barely scraping by.  Mr. Maceo was so impressed, he made sure George got a big surprise.  Mr. Maceo sent word to George that he wanted to pay the remaining tuition for George to graduate.  George was overwhelmed.  He had no idea what was going on, but that offer had come at the perfect time.  George vowed never to forget what Mr. Maceo had done for him."

"Mrs. Ballantyne, I'm confused about something.  How did George find out your father split the money in half?"

"George is the kind of guy who refuses to leave a rock unturned.  After Sam Maceo contacted him, he could not rest until he understood why a man who barely knew him had been so kind.  At some point, George confronted his father and got the whole story.  However, there was a twist neither George or his father knew about.  A few years after George graduated from A&M, he met someone who had the inside scoop.  George discovered Mr. Maceo had personally checked with Texas A&M.  Apparently Sam Maceo didn't believe a word my father had told him.  Top student in his class?  Ridiculous.  The thought of some immigrant kid from Galveston standing at the top of his class was unheard of, much less a kid with a father like ours. 

Let's face it, my father didn't have much credibility, so Mr. Maceo had every right to be suspicious.  Very few children of the immigrants here in Galveston were good students.  Therefore, if it was true, that accomplishment would set George heads and shoulders above the rest.  When Mr. Maceo found out that George was indeed at the top of his class, he wanted to help.  Like I said, Mr. Maceo was an immigrant just like my father, so he knew first-hand how tough it was to make it here in America.  Mr. Maceo knew my father was a dubious character, so this told him George had to be special to overcome the death of his mother and his father's abandonment.  After pegging George as an ambitious kid who was determined to rise beyond his circumstances, from this point on Mr. Maceo followed George's progress."

"Did George ever meet Sam Maceo in person or talk to him?"

"That's a good question, but I don't know the exact answer.  I don't think they had ever spoken prior to Sam Maceo's decision to hand my father $100.  However, after that, yes, they definitely spoke in person, but I don't know when it started.  Mind you, the entire story was unbeknownst to me at the time.  For much of my first year of college I had no idea Mr. Maceo was helping George or me.  So here is what I think happened.  Not only was Mr. Maceo impressed with George, he remembered me from our days chatting at the Snug Harbor restaurant.  Since I lived in San Antonio, at some point Mr. Maceo asked my father how I was doing.  Mike replied that I had the harebrained idea to go to college, but there wasn't any money.  Typical of my father, he quickly added that it didn't matter. 

"Don't worry about Maria, she don't need no college.  She can get a job as a clerk, type a little, answer the phone.  Or better yet, she's pretty.  She can get married and have babies."

I was a girl, so what difference did it make if I wanted to go to college?  That's my father for you.  What a prince.  But Mr. Maceo saw things differently.  Without telling my father, he contacted George.  When George told him I made straight A's in high school and was dying to go to college, Mr. Maceo told George he would like to pay my way to college.  And that is how I went to college!  Like I said, Sam Maceo was a better father to me than my own father."

"But wasn't it risky taking money from a mobster?  Don't they always expect something in return?"

Seeing the curious expression on my face, Mrs. Ballantyne shrugged her shoulders. 

"Well, to begin with, I did not know where the money was coming from.  When George sent it to me, I was overjoyed, but I was also suspicious.  I wrote George and demanded to know where he got the money.  He fibbed and explained he had saved up the money from his summer job.  Furthermore, now that he had an extra job at school, George promised to keep sending money.  He added how pleased he was to finally be in a position to help.  I took his word for it and enrolled in college.  However, I still had my doubts.  Finally I couldn't take it anymore.  I had to know what was going on.  The next time I saw George in person, it was Thanksgiving.  I pulled him aside and asked him to explain a little more about that extra job.  When George got one of those deer in the headlights expressions, I saw right through him.

"Okay, George," I demanded, "it's time to fess up."

"No, no, Maria, it's not like that.  There's nothing for you to worry about."

"Bullshit!  You tell me the truth right now or I'm going to drop out of college and get pregnant with the first boy I meet!"

George didn't know whether I was bluffing or not, but he saw how mad I was and caved on the spot.  He admitted that Sam Maceo was paying my way.  I was so shocked you could have knocked me over with a feather.  George said that Mr. Maceo had been so impressed by his performance at Texas A&M, he decided to help out his shy Greek sister as well.  Mr. Maceo had promised George he would pay my way to Mary Hardin-Baylor for all four years.

I didn't know what to think.  It was strange to find my education bankrolled by the Godfather, but then I realized I didn't care.  The Sam Maceo I knew was a man I respected.  He was not violent.  He was polite to everyone, very outgoing.  He cared about little people like me and George.  He never insulted people, but they got his message anyway.  In the eyes of many, Sam Maceo was seen more as a benefactor than evil presence.  He came all the way from Sicily without any money or education, yet here he was the most important man in the city.  I admired him for that.  People called him 'Mr. Galveston' and I can see why.  He was more businessman than mobster.  Let me give you an example.  After the great storm, they built a seawall and placed the fabulous Galvez Hotel right on the beach.  They hoped tourism would revive the economy, but it didn't work.  The hotel stayed largely empty.  Mr. Maceo saw an opening and built a popular casino right across the street from the Hotel Galvez.  People flocked from all over Texas to the island to see a show, gamble, have a drink.  The next thing you know, the hotel was booked solid.  Sam Maceo put the economy of Galveston on his back on and personally restored prosperity. 

The only problem was that his business was illegal due to Prohibition.  But most people on the island thought Prohibition was sheer idiocy.  There were a lot of people who liked to drink bootleg liquor and a lot of people who liked to gamble.  As for prostitution, who was I to judge?  Yes, Mr. Maceo was a gangster, but in my eyes he was also a good man.

At the time, I was young and didn't really understand why Mr. Maceo was helping me.  Later on, George and I talked about it.  George believed Mr. Maceo understood the importance of education as a way to give the children of immigrants equal footing here in America.  He knew how tough it was to be an immigrant and he helped everybody whenever he could if he believed they were trying hard.  He was trying to help me get an education and I was extremely grateful.  What mattered to Sam Maceo was that George and I were good kids.  And he also knew how poorly my father had treated us.  To him, that wasn't right.  In his book, we both deserved better.  Even though we had gotten some rotten breaks, Mr. Maceo was impressed that George and I continued to work hard in school without any encouragement.  I believe our situation must have reminded him of himself when he landed in America.  That is why Mr. Maceo felt a kinship with both of us.  He was Italian, we were Greek, but it didn't matter to him.  He wanted the children of immigrants on Galveston Island to succeed.  Mr. Maceo once said, "Galveston needs to nurture its native sons."  He felt a responsibility to lift us up.  That is the way I remember Sam Maceo."

Mrs. Ballantyne got quiet for a moment, then laughed.

"I have to tell you something.  Mr. Maceo was so impressed when George graduated at the top of his class.  He was just as proud of my brother as if George was his own son.  He sent George a message that said he expected George to do a better job as a father than my own father.  George really took that to heart.  He became determined to be a great father.

I owe my college education to Sam Maceo.  Mr. Maceo got such a kick out of helping George, he decided to try it again with me.  Can you imagine??  A nobody kid like me?  A worthless girl?  What a break!  Totally unexpected.  I could not be more grateful.  Now I had my chance just like George did.  George and I owe so much to this man."

Mrs. Ballantyne pointed to the family pictures on tables and the living room wall.

"These pictures tell the story.  These pictures show what Sam Maceo did for me.  I spent my entire childhood dreaming that I would someday have a family like this.  You have no idea the pain I felt when my family disintegrated around me after my mother died.  My father was a confused man.  He had no business walking away from his duty to me. 

After the way he treated me, I was bound and determined that when I grew up, I would do so much better with my own children.  It is a parent's responsibility to make sure her children are elevated to more beneficial positions in life.  I have done that.  I have my home, my marvelous husband and seven college-educated children.  Not just that, they are the best children any mother could ever hope for.  I could not possibly be more proud of then.  Who would ever believe a story like mine?"

Then she smiled at me. 

"So now you know the secret of my success.  I don't tell my gangster story to very many people.  Most people would not understand why I took money from a mobster.  They would look down their noses.  I know a lot of people like that.  But now you know how I escaped my trap and found a way to become my own person.  I could not believe how lucky I was.  Who would have imagined that a man who barely knew me would pay for me to go to college?

Look what a simple act of kindness did for me!  My brother George too.  If it was not for Sam Maceo, I cannot imagine where George and I would be today."

I smiled broadly as Mrs. Ballantyne shared her remarkable story about Sam Maceo, the Galveston Godfather.  I was very touched by one thing she had said...  A Simple Act of Kindness.  As long as I lived, I swore that phrase would never leave my mind.

ON THE ROOF WITH DR. BALLANTYNE

Mrs. Ballantyne had been speaking now for close to four hours.  At the conclusion of the Sam Maceo story, I expected I would get the chance to ask some of the questions regarding her surprise appearance at my grocery store ten years earlier.  I had just about worked up the courage to speak when Mrs. Ballantyne's husband made a surprise appearance.  Our conversation ended abruptly.

Something was wrong.  Dr. Ballantyne had a huge frown on his face and he seemed upset.  He was so oblivious to my presence I had to assume he was used to seeing strangers in his house.  As Mrs. Ballantyne got up from the table to see what was bothering him, she had a worried look on her face.

I watched quietly as Dr. Ballantyne and his wife talked over by the kitchen.  To my surprise, Mrs. Ballantyne turned to glance at me, then pointed me out.  Now for the first time, Dr. Ballantyne seemed to notice me as well.  What was this all about?  Something odd was going on.

Mrs. Ballantyne turned to me and said, "Rick, could I ask you a big favor?"

"Sure.  What do you need?"

"There is a cold front coming into town this evening.  Temperatures are expected to hit the low 20s.  Jay is worried the freeze could easily destroy our tropical plant collection.  He has been up on the roof all day trying to cover our open-air atrium with plastic for protection, but he is getting nowhere because it is a two-man job and the wind is driving him crazy.  Now he is running out of time.  He is really worried he can't get the job done to save his plants.  Do you by chance have an hour to spare?"

I smiled.  "Of course.  I'm not busy.  I would be glad to help."

So up on the roof I went.  Brrr!!  I had forgotten how cold it was.  Not only was it ridiculously cold, the brisk wind was brutal.  Looking below, I saw a jungle of warm-weather tropical plants.  Without cover, they were vulnerable to the coming threat.  I could see what Dr. Ballantyne was worried about.  The moment the freeze arrived, his plants would have no chance without protection.

Due to the odd configuration of their house, there was a niche of sorts where the plants lived.  I had been admiring these plants all day thanks to a large viewing window in the living room.  However, I had no idea these plants were the reason Dr. Ballantyne had been up on the roof. 

Dr. Ballantyne's atrium formed a 30 by 15 rectangle.  Open to the sky to permit sunlight, it was framed by the house on three sides.  The fourth side was open to the nearby swimming pool.  The narrow gap between the two long parallel sides was 15 feet across. 

In order to protect the plants, Dr. Ballantyne had two projects.  First he needed to stretch sheets of plastic from one side of the roof to the other to act as a temporary roof.  Then he needed to drop plastic from the roof to the ground to act as a temporary shield necessary to act as the fourth wall.  It was a big project for one person, so Dr. Ballantyne was fortunate I just happened to be there.

Unless, of course, my being there at the right time was no accident.  That curious thought occupied my mind as I pitched in. 

A strong wind had preceded the oncoming freeze.  This wind hampered our efforts tremendously.  In order to stretch the flapping plastic properly in the heavy wind, one man had to hold down the plastic while the other man nailed it to a temporary two by four.  Dr. Ballantyne had a long rope attached to the free end of the plastic.  I waited on one side while Dr. Ballantyne walked to the other side.  Once he was in position, I threw the 20 foot rope across the atrium to Dr. Ballantyne.  From there he used the rope to pull the plastic across the divide to create a plastic roof.  Once the plastic was properly stretched, we could hammer it in.  Dr. Ballantyne was not satisfied with just one layer.  He did not feel the individual rolls of plastic were thick enough to guarantee sufficient protection, so we repeated the process three times for added protection.  I smiled when I recalled Mrs. Ballantyne had asked for one hour.  This was hard work, so I had a hunch we would still be up here when it got dark.  Brr!  The wind was killing me.  I wondered if there was time to finish. 

Our final step was to place a sturdy 16 foot wood beam across the roof at the open end.  This was the easy part.  From there we both got on ladders and nailed plastic from the wood beam to hang to the ground below.  In this way, the open side of the house facing the swimming pool would be completely enclosed.  It took a while, but we finished enclosing the area with a temporary fourth wall. 

Dr. Ballantyne and I spoke little during the project.  Unlike his gregarious wife, Dr. Ballantyne was a man of few words.  He was a reserved, formal man who carried himself with great dignity.  Dr. Ballantyne was also quite the workhorse.  Unwilling to take any chance of losing his valuable plants, he refused to take a break until the job was done.  As the day progressed, I was amused by the transformation in his features.  Slowly but surely, Dr. Ballantyne's deep frown was replaced by a greatly-relieved smile.  

As darkness rolled in, the temperature began dropping rapidly just as predicted.  It was freezing out there!  I had spent the afternoon noting how beautiful his tropical plants were, so I could understand why his collection was a source of so much pride.  It would be such a shame to lose his rain forest.  Dr. Ballantyne had been wise to cover the open area or he would have lost every one of those plants.

In all, we were on the roof for three hours until we finished.  It was a good idea to avoid breaks because we finished not one minute too soon.  I watched as Dr. Ballantyne used an extension cord to place a space heater in the midst of his temporary greenhouse.  He glanced at me and smiled, "The heater is an extra precaution.  I want to thank you for your help, Rick.  I could not have done this by myself."

As Mrs. Ballantyne handed us both some much-welcome hot chocolate, I was pleased with my good deed.  I was the little Dutch boy who came along at an opportune moment to plug the dike.  While I had been up on the roof, I thought it was strange that out of seven grown children, not one of them had been anywhere in sight today to pitch in.  Nor did anyone drop by with the job in progress.  What were the odds of that happening?  Not that I minded; this had been a fascinating visit.  Not only did I learn invaluable details about Mrs. Ballantyne's life story, I fulfilled a long-held wish by becoming a Ballantyne for a day.  It was an honor I cherished.

VICKIE: PAY IT FORWARD

I had done some serious thinking during my three hours on the roof.  There was a story I had been dying to tell Mrs. Ballantyne, but never got the chance.  Eight years ago I had a bizarre experience during college.  I met a pretty teenage girl named Vickie, 15, at the Baltimore Quaker Meeting.  When Vickie learned I was going to a séance, she claimed she had psychic powers and begged me to take her along.  I did not believe a word she said.  There was something very desperate about this girl.  She was so determined to be alone with me, I assume she would say anything to escape her miserable home life for one night.  Despite my misgivings, her plea was so poignant I gave in and agreed to take her with me.

It turned out that Vickie was telling the truth.  That night this young girl used her psychic gifts to channel the ghost of my dog Terry.  I am not making this up.  It was one of the most shocking events of my life.  I was even more unsettled when Vickie said that Terry had asked why I had left him.  When she said that, I immediately broke down in tears.  I could still remember the guilt I had felt when I left Terry behind to go to college.  After Vickie relayed my sorrowful explanation to Terry, I could not take much more of this.  After speaking in the dark to the alleged ghost of my unseen dog, Vickie reported Terry was much happier.  This was way too weird for me.  Deeply shaken to be told the invisible ghost of my dog had contacted me, I asked Vickie if we could leave. 

Was Vickie faking this?  I doubt it.  Terry had recently died in Houston 3,000 miles away.  Since I had no reason to tell anyone in Baltimore, Terry's passing was a secret known only to me.  Therefore one of two things happened.  Either Vickie read my mind in some way and conjured up a fake story.  Or she had truly channeled the ghost of my dog.  Vickie did not strike me as a person cruel enough to deceive me.  For that reason, I believed she was telling the truth that my dog had directly communicated with her.

Afterwards in the car, Vickie told me about her mother's frightening battle with cancer, adding the end was near.  Since Vickie was an only child, she was terrified to be an orphan.  Her only relative was a distant uncle she had never met.  Why not?  Her uncle lived in a remote and quite distant corner of Canada.  Her mother had written the man, but so far he had not responded.  Vickie did not know who would take care of her when her mother was gone.  Scared, Vickie broke down and cried like a baby.  

To my great shame, as I listened to Vickie pour out her heart, I wanted to run for the hills.  Intimidated by the ghost of my dog and the imminent passing of Vickie's mother, Death was in the air.  Quite frankly, I was scared out of my mind.  Right now I wanted nothing to do with Vickie's intense desperation.  I was about to come up with a fake reason to take Vickie straight home when suddenly an image of Mrs. Ballantyne crossed my mind. 

Mrs. Ballantyne could very easily have left me at any stage during our long parking lot conversation.  Instead she had made sure to stay until her job was complete.  With that fact burning a hole in my conscience, I chose to stay by Vickie's side.  I knew I could never pay Mrs. Ballantyne back for what she had done for me, but I could definitely 'Pay it Forward'.  This is a beautiful concept that suggests when we cannot directly repay a great favor to the person who has helped us, we should pay the favor forward to someone else who needs help.  So that is what I decided to do. 

I freely admit I wasn't as effective with Vickie as Mrs. Ballantyne had once been with me.  However, I tried as hard as I could to comfort her.  First I told Vickie how I too had grown up alone, then added how difficult my childhood had been.  Then I concluded by saying, "Vickie, I have told you my story for a reason.  I can see things are really tough for you right now.  But if I can do it, then so can you."  

Those, of course, were the exact same words Mrs. Ballantyne had once used with me.  I was a rookie at this and in no mood to be original.  Fortunately my story performed a small miracle.  Vickie's tears stopped and her courage to face an unknown future returned.  However, her bravery was short-lived.  When I drove Vickie back to her mother's house, she did not want to get out of the car.  As her forlorn, wraith-like mother stared at us out the second floor window, Vickie trembled violently.  She clutched my arm like it was her last hope in a violent storm. 

"Rick, I am so scared.  Please don't go.  Come in with me.  Help me face this."

I shook my head.  I was only five years older than Vickie.  Maybe if there had been a larger difference in our age, I would have gone in.  However, as things stood, Vickie was looking for a boyfriend, not an older brother.  Unfortunately, I felt myself respond to her siren call.  Since I did not trust myself to handle this tricky situation correctly, it was time to offer more comfort, then leave.

"Listen, Vickie, you need not worry.  Even if your uncle does not agree to help, I guarantee someone from the Quaker Meeting will step in.  You have too much going for you.  Be brave.  I promise you things will work out." 

Through tears, Vickie nodded.  "I suppose you are right.  There are people at the Meeting who have already hinted they would step in if necessary.  It won't be easy, but I guess I can make it through this." 

Vickie took a deep breath, then reluctantly got out of the car.  She gave me one last wistful look that broke my heart, then turned away.  As footnote to this story, I later learned that Vickie went to live with her uncle that summer.

While I worked on the roof with Dr. Ballantyne, I thought long and hard about his amazing wife.  In the case of Mrs. Ballantyne, I believe she took a special interest in me specifically because my struggles reminded her so much of her own problems as a child.  Recalling how people had helped her at the right time when she was young, Mrs. Ballantyne was moved to take care of me.  In other words, Mrs. Ballantyne 'paid it forward'.  In my case, Vickie, reminded me strongly of my own problems growing up.  Of course I wanted to help Vickie.  How could I not?  My heart ached for her so much that I was determined to do the best I could.  I was proud of myself for overcoming my fears to reach out to her.  The key word is 'Empathy'.  This was a gift Mrs. Ballantyne possessed in abundance.  This was a gift I hoped to acquire. 

I believe that people who have been a beneficiary of 'A Simple Act of Kindness' become unusually sympathetic to the plight of other people who struggle.  Speaking for myself, I have always felt a responsibility to help wherever I can by paying Mrs. Ballantyne's kindness forward.  However, my assistance to Dr. Ballantyne was even better because it gave me a way to repay Mrs. Ballantyne's kindness directly.  Given the freezing temperature, every one Dr. Ballantyne's beloved tropical plants would have died if I had not shown up.  For that reason I could not help but wonder if this latest coincidental meeting had been Karma in action.  Ten years ago Mrs. Ballantyne had appeared out of nowhere at a time when I greatly needed her help.  Now ten years later, I had 'accidentally' appeared at the exact moment her husband desperately needed my help.  

Mrs. Ballantyne had caught my attention with her phrase 'A Simple Act of Kindness'.  Sam Maceo had rescued her brother George with a 'A Simple Act of Kindness'.  Then Maceo turned around and did a similar 'Act of Kindness' for Maria.  She in turn rescued me with an 'Act of Kindness' of her own.   Then I turned around and performed a similar 'Act of Kindness' for Vickie.  Today I had performed 'A Simple Act of Kindness' for Mrs. Ballantyne's worried husband.  My effort meant the world to Dr. Ballantyne.  He could not have completed this job without me.  How very fortunate it was that I just happened to cross Mrs. Ballantyne's path on a day when I was free to help.  Was this a Fated Coincidence?  Maybe, maybe not.  But you know me.  I decided this was a Supernatural Event. 

If so, what was the purpose?  I had been given a powerful lesson in the importance of Kindness.  This was a lesson I vowed to remember throughout my life, a vow I kept.  I find it very curious to have received this message here at the very start of my dance career.  In the days and years to follow, I made sure that Kindness would be my guiding principle as I developed my program.

 MARIA BALLANTYNE

Serious

Coincidence

Serious

Coincidence

Ultra Serious