Late one evening, my constant yawns(呵欠)convinced me to retire for the night. I put on a comfortable cotton gown, turned the lights low, and crawled into bed between the cool but comfortable sheets. To ensure a good night’s rest, I called out towards the kitchen to my smart speaker, “Alexa, play sounds to sleep by.” As I gathered my cozy sheet up under my chin, I felt at peace with my cat Bella snuggled up(依偎)to me.

During the night, a heavy object landed on my stomach, causing me to scream and sit up, only to discover that it was Bella. She had a habit of waking me up to get her a snack, but the hands on the clock said 3:00 am, and I was annoyed that she had interrupted a happy dream. I fell back against the pillow and promised I’d feed her in the morning. That wasn’t acceptable to her, so she continued to walk on top of me while pressing her paws into my body.

Because that proved to be unsuccessful, she jumped over to the bedside table and deliberately used her paw to knock things on the floor, one at a time, to keep me from going back to sleep. Her efforts paid off as I looked over in the dark room and knew the smug(沾沾自喜的)look on her face conveyed a serious demand. “Get up, human. I’m ready for my nightly treat.”

Knowing she would keep disturbing me until she got her snack, I took a few minutes to focus my eyes and heard what sounded like running water or someone pressure-washing a wall. I couldn’t imagine our apartment staff doing maintenance in the middle of the night, so I assumed I had turned off the water tap. I would regret the large water bill it would bring about, so I unwillingly got up and went into the kitchen. I found nothing out of the ordinary so I continued to search with Bella following me. I checked the bathroom, where I found no running water.

Since the sound was still evident, I realized the seriousness of the situation.

I didn’t see water on the wall, so I thought it wasn’t an emergency.

The year I turned 30, my friend Erin and I decided to hike part of Newfoundland’s East Coast Trail—215 kilometres between Cappahayden and St. John’s where the wild scenery was very charming! The path there would bring us great fun.

Neither of us had gone on a hiking trip longer than five days and now we were in for 14, but we were excited. Nature! Strength! Character! Our hike would end up giving me all of those things in cruel abundance, but there was one take-home I didn’t expected: proof of the astonishing kindness of strangers.

As a shy woman schooled in the risk of stranger danger, I’m not one to open up to people I don’t know. In Toronto I don’t even chat with my seatmate on the subway or in a grocery line, and I certainly don’t ask for help unless I’m desperate. But on this hike I had to learn new ways to cope.

Over our first two days we covered less than 30 kilometres, most of it in the rain. What had been a gentle mist when we started evolved into a downpour by the second day. Nothing dried overnight, everything was wet. The roads were rugged, with muddy patches so deep that stepping in the wrong place meant mud to mid-calf—which is to say over and into your boots. We squelched（发出嘎吱声）with every step.

All that was very awful for me. On our second day, as we were still on a road looking like cats left in the rain, a woman and her parents making their way from car to house caught sight of us and took pity. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” Jenny asked.

“Thank you!”

We hurried to their lovely home.

We’d encounter more kindness on the trip.