The most touching things since I began this depression and suicide awareness campaign are the small things.

The girl in the takeout food outlet who emptied her pockets and gave us $1.75.

The friend of one of my daughters who donated $5 all the way from New Zealand.

The rather rough looking woman on a downtown street who touched my arm and said, “I like what you are doing.”

The Mom in the grocery store who hugged us and told us her story.

The way the social media folks in the charity community in Victoria rally round and encourage each other.

The retweets from my colleagues all across the country who are trying to help: in Alberta, Ontario, Manitoba and Nova Scotia. It’s heartwarming. The retweets from friends of my daughters around the world who are cheering us on.

My grandson telling me, “Grandma you look like a parrot. I like parrots.” Not sure he has ever met one but it’s the thought that counts. Last week before I got my 1st streak renewed and my 2nd one done he told me that I should get my blue hair fixed because it was going away. He has no prejudices.

Little things matter. They are like wild strawberries, so small but so very sweet.

Being able to say “You are not alone.” to people who feel shamed or embarrassed or isolated because of the way suicide or depression has touched their lives is a priceless opportunity. It may not truly help but it seems to give them at least a momentary relief.

I am an ordinary person. Most people aren’t afraid to talk to me. Grassroots acceptance that people can have problems and that we need to help each other is where we need to go. Small day-to-day acts, hands helping pull friends and family and acquaintances out of their shadowy places. It only takes a few minutes. And it is so worth it. Never stop doing the little things for people; sometimes those little things are the biggest of all for them in the moment. Like the 3 year olds let’s have no prejudices.