The spindly fig tree had been the subject of much coddling and care, and this year was promising a bumper crop. Then my grandson, standing at the window, said 鈥淯h oh!鈥� in that tone that means disaster.
The wind had broken one of the little tree鈥檚 two principal limbs. We taped, tied, wrapped and propped the best we could, but it will take a miracle to save the broken branch, and the rest of the tree will likely suffer from severe imbalance.
I went inside, gloomy and woebegone, frustrated with nature鈥檚 cruel whims.
Then I checked how nature was treating relatives, friends and former colleagues in Alberta. Suddenly, a broken fig tree didn鈥檛 matter.
One person is back in his home in Canmore, safe, dry and grateful, but worried about neighbours who have lost their homes. Another friend who had put considerable work into her home in High River is now homeless. Like many, she has lost almost every tangible possession she owned.
In Calgary, streets are still under water, light-rail transit tracks are torn up and many people are still barred from returning to their homes. Some of those who have returned are still without utilities.
Downstream, many members of the Siksika First Nation have lost their homes to the flooding Bow River.
People are already stepping forward to help, and wonderful things are happening, but full recovery will take a long, long time, and the scars will be permanent.
Most people in Greater Victoria, I believe, know someone who has been affected by the flooding. To many of us, those floodwaters are covering familiar scenes.
The relationship between B.C. and Alberta is not always smooth, but like quarrelling siblings, when disaster strikes, we set aside petty differences and want to help.
There are right ways and wrong ways to help. Disasters bring out the best of intentions, but sometimes those intentions become misguided and actually make things worse.
Disaster-recovery experts are familiar with the consequences of generosity gone awry.
After the shootings in Newtown, Conn., last year in which 20 children and six adults were killed, many people thought teddy bears would help bring comfort to the community. But the teddy bears turned out to be a problem 鈥� they filled a 20,000-square-foot warehouse rented just to store the donated stuffed toys. One shipment from Arkansas contained 7,000 of the stuffed animals.
After the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Japan, relief workers were flooded with too much clothing and too many blankets, donations that got in the way of cleanup efforts.
When fire destroyed a third of Slave Lake, Alta., two years ago, the flood of donated goods added to the troubles. A 25,000-square-foot airport hangar had to be rented in Edmonton because there was no place in Slave Lake to store everything. Handling the donations took resources and labour away from relief efforts.
So what do you give? Money. It might seem less personal and comforting than a teddy bear, but it is infinitely more useful.
The Alberta government, cognizant of the Slave Lake experience, is asking that people not send physical goods or bring them to reception centres, but rather to donate money.
The 91原创 Red Cross agrees.
鈥淲e recommend that the best way to support is through financial donations,鈥� said Cheekwan Ho of Victoria鈥檚 Red Cross office. 鈥淭hen we can target exactly what鈥檚 needed. It will also save on shipping and storage.鈥�
Donations can be made to the Red Cross by calling 1-800-418-1111 or through the Red Cross official website.
Watch for scams. Donate only through accredited charities, such as the Red Cross, the Salvation Army or Samaritan鈥檚 Purse.
Cleaning up after a flood is labour-intensive. If you want to offer some hands-on help, do it through an organization that is co-ordinating such efforts, rather than just showing up.
Do a little research to be sure your efforts are put to good use.
