On the side of the road
I had an early morning newspaper route when I was twelve years old. One of my customers was Mr. Striplin, the president of our local bank. On a predawn morning, I struggled with a bike load of papers; he stepped out the front door in his house coat and slippers and said, “Bruce, you need a motorcycle,” I replied, “I can’t afford one.” “Come down to my office, and I’ll give you a loan,” Mr. Striplin said.
That afternoon, with my 12-year-old signature, I signed a one-page finance agreement and became the proud owner of a Honda 90 motorcycle. Mr. Striplin saw a young person trying to better himself, and he lent a hand. I remember his kindness, and when I see others trying to do the same, if I cannot help, I at least try not to hinder.
That memory guided my actions on a cold January afternoon. Barreling down I-40 from Knoxville, TN, headed home to Huntsville. I saw an old car on the side of the road, hood raised, and 4-ways weakly blinking.
A little bit further down the interstate, a man and a little boy holding his father’s hand were walking on the side of the road. I know you are not supposed to pick up strangers, but the little boy clutching his dad’s hand tugged at my fatherly instincts. Braking my RV, I pulled over, and the man’s and boy’s faces appeared in the open door in a minute. I told them to come on board, as it was misting rain and 40 degrees outside. The stranger gave heartfelt thanks as he and his son settled in.
“The next exit will be just fine,” he said. As we rolled up the exit ramp, no gas station, motel, or restaurant was in sight. I asked, “Where are you headed?” We had traveled in nearly complete silence. The father’s voice cracked as he said, “The hospital over in Cleveland.” “Be glad to take you there,” I replied, “That’s over 40 miles”, he softly spoke.
This was one of those moments when you must decide, being polite is holding the door open or not interrupting someone’s conversation; it is easy enough to do. This situation required more than politeness or an excuse (thinking about the twohour delay getting home). I turned loose from my schedule and focused on helping. My woe-is-me attitude and the self-pity I was wallowing in went right out the door. “Let’s roll,” I replied.
With that, a torrent of words tumbled out of the soldier’s mouth, – “I have just arrived from a tour of duty in Iraq, Hardship discharge, to come home and take care of our 3-year-old son and be with my wife; she has terminal cancer. When my car broke down, I did not know what I would do. The soldier continued, “I remember my grandmother telling me many times, “Don’t make prayer your last thing, but your first thing.” Sir, I prayed, and you stopped; Grandma knows what she is talking about.”
I pulled up in front of the hospital and wished them God’s speed; as I stood up to open the RV’s door, the soldier grabbed me in a bear hug, and the little fellow wrapped his arms around my leg. With tears in both eyes, we stood silently, rejoicing in God’s love for us.
It is true, neuroscientists report, that doing a good deed without expectation of anything in return releases a powerful dose of “feel good,” flooding you with love, joy, and peace; that feel-good feeling is simply God’s presence. This is just another example of how the Good Lord made us (after all, we are made in His image). That day, we experienced the power of God’s love.
Bruce Walker sees humor and God’s design in life’s events. He also speaks regularly to various groups. You may contact Bruce at bruce@brucestoryteller. com or visit his website, BruceStoryteller.com.
