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Appreciate good deeds
♦
ou worry about many things that never happen, yet horrible
things can happen to you that you didn’t foresee. Don’t try to
figure these out. You can plan and you can prepare, but you can
never be sure in advance what is going to happen. Tosca had been so
worried about being held back by language, so we had gone and
studied French in preparation, but when we moved to Toronto, we
found out that nobody in that city spoke French.
But still plenty of other things went wrong. We did our best. Many
people were kind to us. Some were friends, and some were just good
strangers.
Just before we left South Africa, a friend told us of someone in
Toronto who could rent us a furnished apartment for the first few
months that I could pay for in South Africa, the first of many helping
hands. This was useful because the South African government would
block my funds after I left and would not allow me to take out
anything other than $2,000, and I needed to pay my rent right away.
Tosca and I moved to Toronto and into an apartment. There was
one bedroom, and Tosca and I slept in the bed in the bedroom, and
Elon slept on the couch in the living room. We arrived in December,
which is bitterly cold in Toronto. Our clothes were like Miami
clothes, not quite suitable for that freezing-cold weather. We must

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have borrowed coats from my sister and mother, which were either
twenty or fifty years old.
We had a lot to learn. I didn’t know the city well, and it was
terribly confusing to make my way around. I couldn’t afford a car, so
I was always on the subways and buses. All I knew was that you had
to use a loonie, which is a heavy one-dollar coin, to take the subway
and the buses.
For the first couple of weeks, I carried a huge bag of one-dollar
coins to pay for the bus, then pay for the subway, then pay for the
bus, because I had to go to so many different places for auditions and
while looking for a rental apartment.
One day, I was on the bus and there were some tourists who asked
the bus driver for a transfer. They took the transfer and went to the
subway. I said, “There’s a transfer?”
It was a fabulous thing to learn. I had lined up some modeling
jobs, but in order to get to them, I had to travel quite a distance. Now
I could use a transfer to go in one direction everywhere. It was such a
relief not to carry those heavy bags of coins, and also a financial
relief.
• • •
At forty-two, I was eager to start my practice in Toronto, but I
couldn’t begin until I was a registered dietitian (RD), which meant I
needed to pass the Canadian exams. Simultaneously, I needed to
take five undergrad exams from the University of Toronto to show
that my grades qualified me for graduate work. For registration, I
had to take the same exams as newly graduated dietetic students who
were in their early twenties. Fortunately, for the first time, I got to
study in English, which was fantastic!
On the day of the exam, I had a TV commercial that I desperately
needed to do due to my financial circumstances. In an incredible act
of kindness, one of the staff dietitians at the nutritional sciences
department agreed to oversee my exam on another afternoon.
At a dietitians meeting, a colleague said that she was unable to
teach childhood nutrition education at a college two nights a week,

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and she offered that position to me. The college was willing to
acknowledge my Master of Science degree from South Africa and
didn’t need me to be a registered dietitian. Suddenly, I had another
job.
In the meantime, I was modeling. I could always tell who was a
model, because they were tall and thin and were all carrying a huge
bag. We did our own hair and makeup, and we always carried our
own shoes, accessories, wigs, and hair pieces. It wasn’t like I was
doing couture shows.
I had a lot of modeling experience, but I only had experience with
how things were done in South Africa.
At the first rehearsal I went to in Toronto, I was the mother of the
bride.
The producer said, “Why are you wearing sandals? You need fall
hose and pumps.”
I didn’t know what she was saying.
I said, “I’m not a fireman. What are hose? What are pumps?”
Of course, hose are stockings, and pumps are high-heeled shoes.
How would I know that? Those are the kinds of things you learn
when you move to new countries.
She called my agency to complain. I was nearly in tears because I
needed to work and I was being treated badly for being
unprofessional. One of the models overheard the complaint and said
to me, “There’s a store in Toronto with shoes for $19.”
I bought a pair of silver shoes and a pair of gold shoes, and I wore
them for every runway show until my financial status improved. An
act of kindness, by a model.
• • •
It was the middle of winter, and on my flight to Toronto, my luggage
had gone missing with all my clothes and my degrees. Of course the
bag full of Tosca’s stuffed toys arrived unharmed.
Until I had my luggage, I was stuck wearing Elon’s and Tosca’s
clothes, because I couldn’t afford to buy new clothes. I had to explain
to people why I was dressed in such a strange fashion.

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I kept on saying, “Sorry, my bags are missing.”
Every month I would rent a car and go to the airline at the airport
and ask them about my luggage. Every month they would say, “Sorry,
we don’t know where it is.”
A few months later, I explained my strange outfit to a man I had
met in Toronto.
He said, “What do you mean, they can’t find your luggage? I’m
taking you to the airport.” He picked me up, which was so great,
because I didn’t have to pay for a car rental. He had no idea how poor
I was.
We go to the airline’s office, and he walked in and said, “I’m her
lawyer. You will find her luggage.”
They said, “Yes, sir.”
He was an accountant. I laughed so hard. I couldn’t believe it.
The next day, they called him and said, “We found the bags in
Mexico City.” Three days later, I had my two huge bags. One was
slightly damaged. One sweater was missing. But my degrees were
there!
A wonderful act of kindness, from a man who was not a lawyer.
• • •
I had booked a modeling job in Mississauga, a forty-minute drive
from Toronto—if you had a car. When I woke up, I found that it was
snowing. Well, if you have to get to work, you find a way to get there,
even in blizzards. I packed my shoes in my big bag and set off. I had
to take two buses, two subway trains, two more buses, and then walk
about four hundred yards to get to the studio, in three feet of snow.
I couldn’t see the sidewalks. There was a lamppost, and there was
a road for the cars, and I just assumed the sidewalk was between
them, but I couldn’t see anything. I was the sole walker, trudging
through three feet of snow to get to this studio. It had taken me two
hours to get there.
When I checked in, they said, “Thank you for driving in this
terrible weather.”
I said, “No, I took the bus.” They were dumbstruck.

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We did the shoot, and afterward, I traipsed through that thick
snow back to the road.
Far ahead, at the end of the road, I saw a bus stopped. I kept
walking, and as I passed, the driver opened the door.
I asked, “Are you stuck?”
He said, “No, I saw you walking, so I waited for you. You could
only have been walking to catch a bus, because there was nowhere
else to walk to.”
I was the only one in the bus. A wonderful act of kindness, by a bus
driver.
• • •
My lesson here is that appreciating kindness from strangers will
make you feel happy. I didn’t realize how many people had been kind
to me until I wrote this book. Then you remember. Life was made
easier because people were nice. They would help me out of
uncomfortable, unhappy, or difficult situations. They didn’t expect
anything in return. Those are good people, and there are many.
Appreciate the good things that are happening in your life. When you
are in a tough situation, look for support from family, friends, and
even strangers. And be kind to strangers, too.

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