Count Your
Blessings....and Pass Them On
He almost didn't see the old
lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of
early evening, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of
her Mercedes and got out. His old Pontiac was still sputtering when
he approached her.
Even with the smile on his
face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so
... was he going to harm her? He didn't look safe; he looked ragged
and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there
in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can
put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait
in the car where it's warmer? By the way, my name is Bryan."
Well, all she had was a flat
tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. After scouring the trunk for
tools, Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put
the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to
change the tire. But he had gotten very dirty and his hands were
hurting.
As he was tightening up the
lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She
told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing
through. She just couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.
Bryan just smiled as he replaced the tools and closed the trunk.
She asked him how much she
owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already
imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.
Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him.
This was helping someone in need, and God knows plenty of
people had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his
whole life for others, and it never occurred to him to act any other
way.
He told her that if she
really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who
needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and
then Bryan added, "And think of me." He waited until she started
her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt
good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.
A few miles down the road
the lady saw a small cafe. She decided to go in and grab a bite to
eat, and to take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home.
It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas
pumps. The whole scene seemed rather stark to her. The cash register was
silent -- it didn't ring much.
The waitress came over,
bringing a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She
had a sweet smile, a smile that even being on her feet for the whole
day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was heavy
with child, but she hadn't let the stress and weariness affect her
gracious attitude.
The old lady wondered how
someone who had so little could be so giving to a total stranger.
Then she remembered Bryan. After she finished her meal, and the
waitress had gone to get change for her $100 bill, the old lady
slipped out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress returned,
wondering where the old lady could be. Then she noticed
something written on the napkin, under which were four more $100 bills.
There were tears in her eyes
when she read what the lady had written: "You don't owe me anything.
I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm
helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do
not let this chain of love end with you."
Well, there were tables to
clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it
through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed
into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written.
How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With
the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She
knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her,
she gave him a soft kiss and whispered, "Everything's gonna be
all right now. I love you, Bryan."
There is an old saying that
goes "What goes around comes around." So, pass this thought on,
and give thanks by giving to others.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless
