Such acts happen day after day, hour after hour, but generally will never be reported. Why? Because it's a condition of selfless giving, there is nothing to be gained from it, no fame, no fortune, no applause or kudos - or is there?

Twenty-five years ago I watched a woman walk into the flooring store I was sub-contracting for. She was asking for prices of the various carpets and vinyl floor coverings and seemed distraught. A lone, flustered salesperson unenthusiastically rhymed off prices then, as he slipped by me, whispered, "She has no money. She's driving me, nuts!"

I watched her drift aimlessly, hopelessly, as each prospective carpet took her further from what she wanted and closer to what she could afford. She clutched some paper, which she used to calculate the disappointment of her situation and very limited resources.

I'm not sure why I took such notice of her and her plight. Perhaps it was the aura of hopelessness which the woman radiated. Perhaps it was because she told the sales person she was recently divorced and left to fend entirely for herself after giving the man she still loved everything and despite the fact that he left her for a much younger woman. Upon reflection however, she reminded me of my mother, who had suffered the same fate.

I busied myself loading my material for the day's installation while keeping an ear to her story of betrayal and heartbreak. She had two small children. I felt a desire to help but didn't know how.

The woman finally settled on flooring choices that came dangerously  close to a total that would consume the final funds she had to her name. The salesperson then asked her if she wanted the material installed. The life seemed to drain from the woman, who'd meticulously calculated everything to the penny except the price of installation.

"How much is installation?" She asked. The salesperson told her it would be 425 dollars.

As the weight of her circumstance settled on her shoulders, she looked down at the papers she'd been carrying and crumpled them slightly. Her eyes started to pool with tears, then she quietly said, "That's okay. I will install it myself."

The salesperson presented her with the invoice. The woman opened her purse and removed an envelope in which was enough money to pay for her purchase. She received less than two dollars in change.

"Joe," I said, "can I ask you about this job I've got to do?"

"Sure." Answered Joe as the woman folded her invoice copy and put her change away. Joe walked toward me out of ear-shot of the woman.

"Joe, look, I'm going to help that woman, and I'm going to lie. I need you to swear to anything I say, okay?" Joe looked puzzled. "Look, partner, I will explain later. Just back me up here."

Joe nodded affirmatively. "Okay, Lea, you lie and I'll swear to it." Joe giggled.

"Thanks Joe. Just keep her here long enough to allow me to get her invoice from upstairs, okay?"

"Okay," said Joe.

Joe returned to the woman to take her invoice then place it in a canister, which he shot upstairs by use of a vacuum tube. As Joe talked with her, I walked upstairs to intercept the canister and remove the invoice. I then walked back downstairs with her invoice in hand.

"Joe?" I asked. "Can you place this invoice on the installation board? Cora just informed me it is the winning invoice for free installation this month. I guess it's my turn to install this month's winner."

Joe took the invoice and tacked it to the installation board. The woman glanced at the installation board as I walked toward the loading dock. I turned to see the woman, her back to me, move to the board to see who the lucky winner was. "Oh my goodness!" She shrieked. "It's, me! That's, me! I mean, that's my invoice!"

Joe walked to the board and carefully examined the invoice. "Well, by God, it is!" Joe laughed in a manner which suggested it was the strangest thing. "You've won! Of course, we'd have called you," said Joe in such a convincingly matter-of-fact voice that I found myself believing him. "Hey Lea, this is the customer who has won the monthly free installation draw. Perhaps you can set up the date and details while she is here?"

"Sure Joe. I have a few minutes," I replied.

I installed her material that weekend. I even met her kids. Buttons could not have been cuter. The joy I felt in helping her caused me to think that perhaps receiving is not selfish, but giving is, because of the way if can make one feel.

From a cynical perspective one might conclude this story was written for self aggrandizement - it is not. The real risk in sharing this story comes from the possibility that a woman somewhere, someplace, might discover she was lied to. If so, I hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me - I just wanted to lighten her load.

Lea MacDonald

inventor@adan.Kingston.net