A Helping Hand

August 27, 2009

The heavens opened, overflowing into a downpour unlike anything ever seen since the time of Noah. Everyone it seemed had left their homes simultaneously this morning arriving on the metropolitan en masse.
Cars snaked along the overhead highway, bumper to bumper, three lanes deep. Dark faces heavy with sleep, others angry with frustration, glared through rain washed windows. Male and female alike, late for work, impatiently shifted their foot to the gas pedal only to hurriedly clamp it back down on the brake, over and over and over again.
If anything irritated Gordon it was being late. He checked his watch for the tenth time. I’m late he said angry, to no one in particular. Eyeballing a movement in the exiting lane of traffic, he pulled his wheel sharply, cutting into the moving lane. Slowly he descended the ramp.
“Now I can put some distance behind me and that mess” he thought.
He swore angrily as he found himself almost at a dead standstill again behind a car apparently going nowhere. Cutting a close arc around it he noticed the driver, alone, standing in the torrent of rain, pushing the stalled car. Gordon cut in front, pulled to the curb and braked.
Struggling out of his car, he was plagued by a flood to rain. He pulled his jacket collar up as he pressed his slight but strong frame against the back bumper of the offending automobile.
Moments later, the driver now seated behind the driving wheel, followed Gordon’s instructions. Gordon’s head disappeared under the hood as he checked various parts of the motor. Ten minutes later, the motor coughed and caught. It’s sweet hum sounding like music brought a wide smile to the face of the owner.
Pressing a twenty into Gordon’s hand, the man insisted it was not nearly enough thanks for the kindness and help given. Gordon politely refusing said
“The next time you see someone in trouble, stop and help. That will be my payment.”
A shocked look spread across the man’s countenance as he shoved the money back into his pocket he said;
“I’m a Roman Catholic Priest. I’ve never met a young man quite like you before. Thank you.”
With rain water swishing in his shoes, and a rivulet of water finding its way along his backbone ending up in a puddle on the seat under him, Gordon continued on his way. His car almost turned into the coffee shop where he usually had his morning coffee. A hot, strong, cup of coffee would taste great right now, he thought. However, his pockets were empty, tomorrow was pay day, and NOW he was late for work.


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