|
Appreciating the little things
Because they’re worth thinking about.
My lovely wife, Rachel, has been planning for quite some time a mission trip to the Dominican Republic. All was set and today was the day that she would depart on a jet plane for a week long adventure into a foreign world where she would experience a more primitive side of human culture. Her flight was scheduled to depart from the Atlanta International Airport which is a five hour drive from our home in Florida and being very supportive of her endeavor to reach out to those in need, I volunteered to drive her there in case that there were any hiccups along the way that might impede her making her flight. We arrived at the airport a bit early, as intended and I kissed her goodbye and saw her off to the terminal. I got back on the road and had planned to immediately embark on the return expedition, however, in my very limited experience in road traveling and typical human forgetfulness of Murphy’s Law, I only left with enough cash to provide for gas and a few much needed caffeinated beverages. I had been traveling for less than ten minutes and had just pulled onto the interstate when I suddenly felt the car bump over something in the road followed by the continual thumping sound of a flat tire. With nowhere to pull off, I drove along the right side lane of the quickly moving six lane road with my hazards flashing. After a little while, fate would have it that in the middle of the long wall lining the road, there sat an entry way into a gated area surrounding hundreds of parked taxi cabs. I quickly pulled off and jumped out of the car to have a look. Of course the tire laid flat as can be, but it was just then that a solemn thought crossed my mind: Never since owning this car have I ever even inspected or thought about the spare! Oh what a lot I’d be in if it were absent! I quickly looked into the trunk to inspect and found a mini spare, unused. However, the jack was nowhere to be seen… ‘What a fool you are! To embark on such a journey without inspecting such a thing! It’s like going into battle with an unchecked rifle!’ I was tempted to say to myself, however, if I’ve learned anything after twenty five years of breathing air, it’s that pouting about things that already are is certain to change nothing. It was about this time, as I stood pondering the situation, that I noticed an African American man in a taxi driver uniform, standing on the nearby fence looking at me with a puzzled face that showed he was curious as to why I had chosen to park my car in a place which was used for no reason other than the exodus of the cabs from the lot. I return a puzzled look at him as I wondering why such a person would be out at five in the morning when there was clearly not another soul to be seen in the entire lot. I approached him, explained my predicament and, without hesitation, he responded with a ‘Let me see what I can do.’ He disappeared for about ten minutes amongst the valley of taxis to finally return with a jack in hand. ‘Will this do?’ he asked. ‘I was able to find it in one of the unlocked taxis’, he explained.
I was able to quickly replace the tire on my car with the spare and, after thanking the man for his courtesy, called my wife. I explained what had happened and how I couldn’t very well drive four hundred miles on a spare and asked if she could meet me back outside the airport. She was able to provide me with the needed capital to replace the worn out tire, however, the transaction left her in a hurry as she was soon to board her flight. I found a local tire shop and waited a few hours for them to open. Once they did, they made quick work of my tire and I was ready to hit the road once again. It wasn’t until several hours later, while driving, that I started to ponder: How odd that that man was there, before work hours, and happened to take an interest in my parking job AND was a man of good character! Because if he hadn’t, or wasn’t, then my only option would have been to walk a very long way down the interstate into Atlanta, hoping to find a Good Samaritan to help me out, in which time, my wife would have boarded her flight. I would’ve been stuck, four hundred miles from home, unable to afford a new tire and my only option would have been to catch a bus home, allowing my car to be impounded so that I could later travel back up to Atlanta, pay to get the car out of impound and then fixed the tire. This would have obviously been a royal pain!
I used my own elbow grease to remove and replace that tire, but by what sort of reason was that man there?
_________________
Thinking like a go player during a game of chess is like bringing a knife to a gun-fight. Thinking like a chess player during a game of go feels like getting knifed while you're holding a gun...
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
Joelnelsonb
But when I was in the USA I used my UK bank's visa debit card in ATMs with no problem.