These days we are conditioned to think in terms of transactions. “What’s in it for me?” is often forefront in people’s minds whenever they are asked to do something. People like certainty, and so knowing what the reward is, and the terms on which it will be received, are key.
But some rewards are shy. They don’t like the attention. Some rewards prefer to be hidden.
And for people brave enough to risk it, those shy rewards can often be the most significant rewards of all.
Back at the start of 2000 I was in the process of setting up my own solicitors practice. It was just me. I was due to start trading on my own on 1st April 2000. Until then I couldn’t act for clients and I wasn’t insured.
In February of that year I was asked by a mutual connection to help a Canadian lady called Pat, who’s husband had died of cancer and who had participated in the British nuclear tests in the 1950s and 1960s. I had previously established a very small reputation in this field as a result of a case I’d won while at a previous firm (another story for another time). There was a tribunal hearing scheduled for the end of February and Pat needed someone to help her. I wasn’t allowed to act as Pat’s solicitor, but I could appear as an advocate at the tribunal. So I agreed to help.
Because my practice was 6 weeks off starting I wasn’t allowed to charge Pat anything for doing this. What was in it for me was nothing more than an opportunity to help a stranger and to sharpen my advocacy skills. But I wasn’t going to let a widow go it alone in the British Pensions Appeal Tribunals system!
I met Pat in London at the hotel the night before the hearing and we talked over dinner. I’d had all the paperwork and I had prepared the case, so I spent the evening listening to Pat tell her story. She told me about how she had met and married her husband, Michael when he emigrated to Canada and about their life together. Although Pat was much younger than Michael, she was clearly devastated by his death and had been fighting for some recognition that his death could have been caused by his participation in the nuclear tests. I was pleased that I had agreed to help her.
I had a steep, uphill battle with her case. But as with the one I’d won previously, I constructed an argument using what shreds of evidence I had, coupled with the rules of the system to navigate an incredibly narrow path. I was lucky (for the second time) and after about 5 hours on my feet threading my way through a large bundle of documents I was able to persuade the tribunal to award Pat a War Widows Pension.
As we sat and had a celebratory drink after the hearing Pat said to me, “You really must come and visit me in Canada! After what you’ve done for me I’d love to do something for you!”
“That would be lovely!” (or something similar), would have been my reply – in the way that we do when we meet someone on holiday or wherever, and they invite you to come and stay and you say “Yes!”, knowing that it really will never happen!)
I caught my train home that night, smugly satisfied with what I’d done. I’d helped someone. It hadn’t cost me anything (Pat had paid for my train fare and for my hotel room the night before). I’d done something good. And it’s always a good feeling to win!
Over the next few months Pat would ring every few weeks for a chat. She’d tell me how things were going and where she was up to with the process of getting the War Pension paid. She’d always end the conversation with, “And you really must come over here!”, to which I’d always say “Yeah. I must!”
In July 2000 I received an envelope through the post with a Canadian stamp. In it were two open return tickets with Air Canada. When I rang Pat she said “Well, I’ve paid for them now, so you’ve got to come!”
We arranged that my then partner, Clare, and I would fly over in September. Pat arranged to pick us up at Toronto Airport.
When we landed I was slightly worried how it would be spending two weeks with someone who I’d only previously met for a few stressful hours some months before. But I needn’t have – Pat was as genuine and delightful as I remembered.
“I’m sure you’ll be tired, and I’m sorry, but we’ve got a couple of hours drive.” Pat said when we got to her car. “We’re going to Niagara Falls.”
I was gobsmacked! I assumed we were going to stay at Pat’s place, but she had other plans.
We pulled up outside the Sheraton Falls View hotel. It was probably the best located hotel in Niagara Falls. It was right opposite the falls themselves. What an incredible place to stay.
After handing her keys to the valet we walked into the hotel and Pat told me to just wait while she sorted everything out. She arranged for the bell-boy to sort our luggage and after a few minutes we were outside our room. The sign said “Presidential Suite”. We were in the best room in the best hotel in Niagara Falls.
Pat left us to get settled. Settled into our bedroom, dining room and our lounge, all with full length uninterrupted views of the falls. It was unbelievable!
After 5 days there we moved on to some equally stunning accommodation in Niagara on the Lake, where we toured some of Ontario’s best wineries and ate some of the country’s finest food! Then on to Pat’s place for a few days before rounding the trip off with three more luxury nights in Toronto, including amazing seats at the opera!
It was a trip of a lifetime! And despite many, many attempts, Pat refused to let me pay for anything.
The shy rewards are the ones you don’t see. They are hiding. They will never reveal themselves in advance and you don’t know they are there. But they can often be the biggest and most life-changing of all.
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