Vignettes 5

BRIAN

In the fading autumn light and wind blown mist, he almost didn’t see the elderly lady stranded on the side of the road. Pulling the old pick-up in front of the listing Mercedes, Brian cleared the highway and stopped. The worn out engine continued to knock and sputter even after he turned the key off.

Even with a smile on his face, the lady was worried. Many expensive cars driven by nice looking men had passed her by in the more than an hour since the front tire went flat, but no one would stop and her car phone was out of range. The young man approaching looked poor and hungry; he didn’t look safe, did he mean to harm her? Still she was chilled to the bone and it would soon be completely dark; what was she to do?

He could tell she was both frightened and cold. "I’m here to help you, Ma’am," he ventured. "Why don’t you wait in the car where it’s warm? Just pop the trunk lid, I’ll have the tire changed in a jiffy. By the way, my name is Brian." A couple skinned knuckles later, he had the jack positioned on the wet siding, with the wheel up and nuts loose. Rolling the bad tire to the rear, he chanced a nod and a smile toward the still pensive face in the fogging window. Soon the spare was secure with the boot down and locked.

Brian began wiping his sore and soiled hands on his shirt tail as the lady buzzed down the window and began to chat. She was on her way home from a long trip, when the tire went flat. She was eternally grateful and insisted on knowing how she could repay his kindness? She had already imagined every horrible possibility and any amount of money would have been fine with her.

Brian didn’t think twice about money, and just smiled. This was not a job, just helping someone, as he had done countless times before. Still the lady insisted on giving him a clutch of bills.

"If you really want to thank me, the next time you see a person in need, help them as you can...and think of me." Brian waited until she successfully pulled into traffic and was on her way. It had been a tough day trying to find work, but he felt good and was anxious to get home.

A few miles down the road, our lady spotted a small café. Mist had turned to rain and she thought to eat while waiting for the sky to clear. Two "out of order" gas pumps greeted her. The restaurant looked dingy and lonely. Inside, she slid into a booth as a smiling young woman, too near to becoming a new mother to waitressing, approached to wipe the table and offer a menu. She gave excellent service even though obviously hurting. The two didn’t small-talk, but the elder thought of Brian as she offered a $100-bill to pay for the food. As the waitress, bracing her back with both hands, went to get change, the woman made her exit.

The waitress was confused looking out the streaked window at her customer driving away without her money. She was even more startled at the note neatly written on a napkin containing four $100-bills: "Please accept this; I know how you must feel. When I was last in need, someone helped me. Please don’t let this chain of love end. Do something extra, as you can, for another."

That night when the tired waitress finally arrived home and climbed into bed beside her sleeping husband, she couldn’t help but wonder about the generous lady she had served. How could she have known how badly they needed the money. With the baby due in less than a month, and her husband having been laid off, it wasn’t going to be easy. Listening to his restful breathing, she stretched to lightly kiss his cheek, and whisper low: "Everything’s going to be all right. I love you, Brian." Read Hebrews 13:1.

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