Every cent helps to beat breast cancer

He’d had a call at 12.30am on Saturday that a close mate had died in a hospice.

She had just been through it, ‘‘scarred but healthy, praise the Lord’’.

His sister was on her last rounds of radiation and he was just so grateful she was doing well.

And then he patted down his pockets and found another gold coin. And five minutes later, another.

He was unemployed and apologised for having only 25 cents to spare.

She was over from Australia to mourn a close friend, who was only 41.

Two young ones, both a bit shy, approached with lovely encouragement from their parents.

She did it because ‘‘we all know someone caught up in it, eh?’’

She did it on behalf of her wha¯nau.

He was worried $20 seemed miserly because ‘‘it’s such a big thing’’.

She knew how we felt, having been in our shoes for other causes.

He had lost his wife many years ago.

The 40-something mum did it because ‘‘it could be me next’’.

He had nothing to give but told me I should be proud of my daughter helping out.

She wanted ribbons and a brochure so she could talk to her teenage daughters.

He bought a Lotto ticket and promised half if he won.

She did it to remember her late mother.

Three teenaged boys had change left from their pie-buying foray.

She spoke no English and could not explain her reason but did it all the same.

He did it for his late nan, mum and aunty. ‘‘Bloody nasty, bro.’’

They all had their reasons. They were all kind.

And they were just a few of the many, many people who dropped notes and coins into our pink buckets between 10am and noon at Pak ’n Save Petone for the Breast Cancer Foundation’s annual street appeal.

Thank you.