The Tooth Fairy Is Not Cancelled

Being a nurse at a local hospital in Belleville, Ontario, Tania’s anxiety rose with the curve of the pandemic. This single mother, primary caregiver for her two girls ages twelve and fifteen, didn’t want to take any chances of exposing her family to COVID-19. Her oldest had severe asthma and her parents, who lived in a nanny suite in her home, were in a higher risk category as well.

Talking to her best friend, Tania mentioned, “I am not sure what I should do. We are hearing about healthcare workers testing positive. I have read about some people stripping off in their garages, having a shower, and going from there.”

“That is an option,” her friend replied.

“Yeah, I guess so. I would probably have more peace of mind if I could self-isolate from my family.”

This sparked an idea in her friend. “Hey, what about a trailer?”

“That’s not a bad idea, you know. I have a seasonal trailer at a campground not too far away.”

Tania called the campground, “Hi. Are you guys open for people to use their trailer and just go back and forth to work?”

“Sorry. We have shut down completely: no tenants at all for any reason.”

“I totally understand,” she replied.

Hmmm, maybe I could rent a trailer and keep it in the driveway, Tania thought. Buoyed by this potential solution, she called around. Either rental companies had ceased renting or were too cost-prohibitive.

Tania turned to social media and posted:

Wondering if anyone has a small camper that I can use to stay in my driveway to live while I have to return to work and I don’t want to bring home this virus to my girls. My oldest has bad asthma and my parents are living in the basement apartment. I don’t know if I’m overthinking or being way too prepared but I would rather that than ever have regrets. I am not directly looking after COVID patients yet. But I may be just a matter of time in the next couple weeks. I welcome suggestions from friends or solutions to my situation. I am the primary caregiver for my girls. And they need to stay safe here at home.

~

An hour’s drive away in the little town of Grafton, Ontario, a link to an article coming through real estate agent Jacqueline’s Facebook feed caught her eye. She clicked it to learn about a doctor in the US. His wife had erected a tent in the garage for her husband to sleep in to reduce the chance of coronavirus exposure to the family. The article highlighted how, in terms of frontline healthcare workers, challenges abounded. They were going into hospitals; they were potentially exposing themselves to the virus. However, they did not want to risk the safety of their families.

Jacqueline was reading this article about a week before things were going to get very real in Canada. She realized this country was not going to be immune to this pandemic.

“Greg,” she called out to her husband. “I have an idea . . .”

Greg and Jacqueline had purchased a brand new camper trailer the year before. They hadn’t even had a chance to use it yet. It sat empty in their garage.

“What’s your idea?” Greg queried.

“We are so lucky. We get to stay in our homes and not have to worry day in and day out if we will bring in something that can hurt our children. What about our frontline healthcare workers? We don’t know what they face every day and the worry they must have around keeping their own families safe. The stress of it all probably also affects their mental health.”

Greg nodded in agreement.

“What if we offered our trailer to a frontline worker who might want to isolate from their family? They could borrow it during the crisis?"

There was no question this was what they should do, and Jacqueline posted in a local Facebook group called Caremongering for Northumberland County. The term "caremongering" was a new addition to Canadian lexicon that had grown out of this pandemic to emphasize focusing on caring over fearing. Not knowing if anyone would actually respond, Jacqueline posted her offer.

~

Tania received a message with a link from her friend that simply said: "Check this out." She read the message and quickly contacted Jacqueline to see if the trailer was still available.

In a matter of days, Greg delivered the trailer, plugged it in, hooked up the water, wiped everything down, and showed Tania around.

She wanted to hug him but instead kept her physical distance. “Please, at least take this gas card,” she said.

“No, I won’t take it,” he insisted. “Just go to work, be safe and do for us what we can’t do for others. You are the only one who can do that because I can’t do anything else.” Tania tried not to tear up.

After Greg left, Tania looked around in amazement. Besides a beautiful trailer, an oasis that could help keep her family safe, she noticed the “welcome home” mat, the stocked fridge filled with frozen soups, the granola bars and treats, the hand sanitizer, the disinfectant wipes, and the piece de resistence—toilet paper!

Tania sat for a moment, overwhelmed and grateful. Tania had worried parents, a mortgage to pay and was raising two children. Every emotion hit her all at once. She could not express how this simple selfless act of generosity had affected her. She cried.

The next night Tania ate her supper outside on the deck while her girls ate their dinner on the inside of the house. At least they could see each other through the sliding glass doors. It was their new normal of sharing a meal together. Although the girls missed the physical contact with their mom, they understood why this was happening, and that it was for everyone’s wellbeing.

The next morning, Tania heard the front door to her house swing open, “Mom, mom . . .” an excited voice yelled.

Tania opened the trailer door to see her youngest daughter standing within the front-door frame of the house, bursting with good news.

“Yes, honey. What is it?”

“I lost my molar yesterday. I wasn’t sure the tooth fairy would come, but I put my tooth under my pillow anyway . . . and guess what?”

“What?” Tania smiled.

“She did. The tooth fairy left a toonie under my pillow!”

Tania grinned, realizing that we are all in this together and that caring has many faces. Whether a stranger with trailer or a faithful tooth fairy, community can bring a sense of safety and normalcy to us all.

This and other uplifting stories will be included in the upcoming book Not Cancelled: Canadian Caremongering in the Face of COVID-19, available from Indigo.ca.