It seems as far back as I can remember, people who care about me have been telling me what I should not do and what I cannot do. It is always because they love me and they want to protect me.
But I was apparently born with a stubborn streak, a drive that will not quit in spite of all obstacles and fears.
At the age of fourteen I rode a horse from Sunnyside Stables at the foot of Mount Royal through the busy streets of downtown Montreal - with a trolley car clanging at me and my handsome steed Tommy part of the way - to the corner of Peel and St. Catherine where my father was at work at Metropolitan News. The policeman directing traffic at the corner of St. Catherine and Stanley was apparently a bit surprised, but he didn't try to stop me. He just waved me through. You can't do that ? I had to.
In the 1970's, on an assignment for Pinkerton, I ordered my driver to give chase when my subject tried to get away. As we speeded past a traffic cop, I flashed my badge and shouted, "Pinkerton in pursuit!" Hey ! You can't do that ! I had to.
Something has brought me through one crisis, one disaster, one adventure after another. I am just not able to sit and do nothing when I know there is something I must do.
I can't give that something a name because - who has seen the wind ? But something has pulled me through the deepest darkness and rivers of tears again and again.
And so I go on doing what I must do, and hoping that which has protected me and sustained me so far will not forget that I am always afraid and always in need of support and protection.
Fear cannot rule me. Angels come in the forms of reliable friends. And, in turn, I never forget others who are also suffering and afraid. The hand that reaches out for help is the same hand that reaches out to help.
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