Fuel Runs Out, but Kindness Flows On

Around eight o’clock this morning, I took my mother to Tim Hortons for breakfast. The streets were quiet, the air soft and calm — a peaceful start to an ordinary day. But just a few blocks from home, at the corner of Merivale and Kirkwood, my car suddenly stalled — I had run out of gas.

I smiled wryly. Life has a way of giving us these little “pop quizzes,” unexpected but gentle reminders to slow down.

I quickly called my friend, who lives nearby. She’s the mother of my grandson’s friend. She and her husband came to Canada from Morocco three years ago. Both have found jobs here, and their son has become close friends with my grandson.

Without hesitation, She drove over, helped my mother into her car, and brought her safely home. A few minutes later, she called me and said gently, “Jackie, don’t worry. Y

our mom is already home and resting. The garage remote is with my husband — you can pick it up later.”

When I arrived at their house, the man was sitting casually on a small red chair by the doorway, enjoying a quiet morning. The sunlight touched his shoulders, and the moment felt peaceful and warm — a simple picture of kindness and calm that stayed in my heart.

I remained in the car and waited for Road Assistance. Around 8:40 a.m., two police officers stopped by and tapped on my window. “Everything okay?” one asked.

I laughed and explained that I’d simply run out of gas. Then I added, “It’s expensive — about a hundred and twenty-five dollars just to get some gas.”

One officer turned to the other and said, “Maybe we can drive her to the gas station and save her some money.”

Their thoughtfulness touched me. I called Road Assistance to check where the driver was. He said, “I’m already on Carling Road — almost there.”

I told him, “There are police officers here who offered to help me get gas. Could I cancel the service?”

There was a short pause. Then he said, “Yes, you can cancel.”

At that moment, I felt something stir in my heart. He was already on his way, yet he still offered to let me cancel and save the fee. The officers were also trying to help a stranger save some money. I said to him, “Please keep coming. If I saved that hundred dollars today, I’d feel uneasy instead.”

When I hung up, I told the officers, “He said I can cancel, but money isn’t everything. I’ll keep the call.” They smiled and nodded. “That’s fair,” one said.

Not long after, the Road Assistance driver arrived. He quickly added fuel and even gave me a discount — only charged a hundred dollars.

As the engine hummed back to life, my heart was full of gratitude.

On the way home, I picked up a coffee for my mother and retrieved the garage remote from Adam. The morning air was cool, but my heart was warm.

What began as a small inconvenience turned into a reminder of how much kindness flows quietly in this country. Canada is truly a land of abundance — not only in material comfort, but in the richness of compassion between people.

Fuel may run out, but kindness never does.

That, to me, is the truest kind of wealth.

—Written on November 6, 2025, at 10:00 a.m., Ottawa, Canada