I was so moved by scribe’s diary that I wanted to write my own.

They say a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.  I know sometimes I get quite depressed thinking about my fellow Americans and their apparent heartlessness.  But I know it isn’t so.

I never learned any of your names but you helped me.
To the anonymous strangers, who once found my lost wallet in which was a 50 dollar check that I desperately needed.  You called my grandfather long distance, back when that was quite costly, to learn my address.  You then returned not only my wallet with its meager cash but that precious check, anonymously, right on my doorstep so I could find it after a sleepless, torment-filled night, which seemed to me to be a true miracle,

Thank you.

To the bearded and leather-clad bikers, who scared the crap out of me, yet stopped when they saw me on the side of the road with a broken-down car in the pouring rain.  Not only did you refuse any payment in return but you called your friends on a CB radio so they could bring the right tools.  I had no money for a tow and a professional mechanic and you saved me that day,

Thank you.

To the harried, older black woman, who saw me in despair on a burning hot summer day in downtown DC, for driving your car over to mine on that incredibly hot day and taking the time to jumpstart my own battered vehicle when everyone else just shook their head “no”,

Thank you

To the Filipino family in the large white Cadillac, whom I only hailed in my desperation, having found out the hard way that the rich do not want to trouble themselves often with the poor.  You opened your doors and an amazing number of children all hopped out, ready to help me attach the cables and jumpstart my car that night,

Thank you

To the young thin man in a tank top, who saw me trudging up a hill on one of the worst and hottest days of my life and read the look in my face and offered me a beer, when I was still too young to buy one myself but old enough to work 3 jobs and still be desperately poor,

Thank you

To the family I saw one night on my way to my third shift job, whose possessions were scattered on the lawn, who had to hurry as the sheriff stood haughtily behind them to hasten their eviction, and in their desperation asked a total stranger to help them load up their meager possessions without fear of me because I was of a different race,

Thank you

To all the people who have ever given me directions, including hand-drawn maps and good advice about where to get a decent night’s lodging without much money,

Thank you

To the young woman who came into the laboratory where I worked and asked me to hold her hand, and taught me that you can overcome your own fears by sharing them with others,

Thank you

To the officer who came to my house the night I was burglarized and lost all of my electronic possessions and took copious notes even though we both knew I’d never recover any of those items,

Thank you

To the woman who asked me for directions to a place I knew, who made me feel at home in a foreign country for the first time, because only those who are home know their way around,

Thank you

To the innumerable number of Gypsy children who took the time to speak to me in my broken Romanian, when no one else had the patience to put up with my accent and mistakes, and to share the story of their lives with me,

Thank you

To the golden retriever, whom I held down as the veterinarian injected the fatal dose to end his pain, who taught me that death is not to be feared and can sometimes be a merciful release,

Thank you

To all the people who have ever given me a ride, anywhere, even those I probably shouldn’t have been riding with,

Thank you

To the bus driver, who let me pay the fare in pennies, and who never made me feel more ashamed than I already was at my poverty,

Thank you

To the airport director in Cairo, Egypt, who drove us to the plane in his own personal car at 3am when we arrived at the terminal too late and would’ve had to sleep in the airport if we’d missed that flight,

Thank you

To the unknown coworker of my father’s, who saw me visiting the office one day and playing with an old electric typewriter and convinced my dad to let us take it home, which taught me to type at such a young age, something which has helped me not only write but been a critical part of almost every job I’ve ever had,

Thank you

To the trucker who heard my call for help on the CB and picked up my friend and I after I had foolishly let my car run out of gas, and drove us to the nearest gas station and paid to exit the interstate even though he had to pay a toll to do it,

Thank you

To the unknown college student who, in 1993, saw me sitting in a lab bored while my roommate completed a project, who showed me how to use the Sun SPARC station to connect to people around the world on some new-fangled invention called the “internet”,

Thank you

To the children in the cancer ward at the hospital where I worked, who taught me strength comes in tiny packages and to never give up hope,

Thank you

To the on-call pastor at the same hospital, who would comfort families in the middle of the night, who would bravely try to provide what little comfort they could to people facing their worst nightmares come true,

Thank you

To all the battered women, the abused children, the rape victims, the assault and mugging and shooting and stabbing victims, the robbed, the desperately poor, the single parents, the uneducated but intelligent, the disadvantaged and distressed yet not giving up, who told me their stories and fears and secret dreams,

Thank you

To the alcoholics and drug addicts I met in the meetings, who taught me that recovery is possible and that sobriety is more precious than gold,

Thank you

To all the people whom I have ever met on the Greyhound, the city bus, the tram, the train, boats and planes, who shared with me their lives, their stories, their wisdom and their hopes for the future,

Thank you

To all the people I met in group therapy, to all the current and former residents of mental institutions, who taught me “craziness” does not mean lack of wisdom or ability, and who taught me that mental illness is nothing to fear and is not “contagious”,

Thank you

And last but definitely not least, to all the people whom I’ve never met and know only as “screen names”, who share THEIR stories and their courage and let me know I am not alone in my political beliefs,

Thank you

Pax