Some great, some small;
If the way you see me
Seems different...
Wait a little while
―John J Geddes
Tiny Houses
I had been shocked to learn my father wasn't the devious character I imagined him to be―in fact, he was quite the opposite and had actually been a closet philanthropist building affordable housing for the disadvantaged in the community.
The revelation caused a massive paradigm shift in my psyche and made me doubt everything I previously believed, so much so, I suffered a panic attack.
Fortunately, Jake Dawson, my former parole officer and now my mentor and friend, came to my rescue and did what he usually does―he calmed me down and helped me place things in perspective.
Not everyone has their own thought adjustor...but then again, not everyone needs one as much as me.
Isabel was waiting for me.
I knew she was curious about what Alfred had told me and I was eager to tell her. I wanted her to share everything in my life and trusted her implicitly to keep my father's anonymous charity work confidential.
"I'm so happy you finally found out the truth about your father," she smiled, "and it's something you can be proud of and continue on if you want."
"It certainly gave me some closure. Alfred suggested we visit the site and see for ourselves the fruits of his labour."
"Why don't we drive down there now? I've got lots of time before my shift begins."
I kissed her softly, "I'd like nothing better than to share this with you."
We drove to The Lakeside Project and were both impressed. The housing units were prefabricated shelters that could stand alone or be stacked as multiple residential units.
The site was attractively laid out and landscaped and resembled a tiny enclave of colourful houses rather than the typically sterile industrial look of subsidized housing.
As we toured the site we stopped to inspect a new unit being built and were greeted by the foreman.
"You folks looking for affordable housing?" he asked.
I shook my head, "No, actually we learned about the project from Alfred Rosenberg and decided to come by and check it out."
"Visitors are always welcome, as are potential donors," he teased. "I'm Jeff Fielding, the project manager."
"Jonas Asher," I smiled, "and this is Isabel Stairs."
The man's eyes widened in surprise at hearing my name. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I have nothing but respect for your father."
"Thank you," I nodded, "I'm totally impressed by the quality of the workmanship I see in this site. This is the kind of work I'd like to be affiliated with and help in any way I can."
He handed me his business card.
"That can be totally arranged, Mr. Asher. We have a planning meeting coming up in a few days―if you'd like to attend, just drop me an email and I'll send you the details."
I caught a glimpse of Isabel's face and her smile was beaming.
"So, it looks like you found your niche here in Dundas," she laughed as we drove away.
'It's a worthy cause," I nodded, "and a place where I can put down some roots and make a difference."
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “You've already have made a difference," she whispered.
I knew she was referring to more than affordable housing―she was alluding to us.
And yes, I was thinking of making our own home here.
That was definitely in my plans for the future.