It was the Fourth of July, and as I was making my way to the fireworks after dinner downtown, I felt my car start to shake. Thinking it was the fault of the huge automobiles parallel to me, I kept driving. Then, I started to smell the putrid stench of burning rubber. My friend leaned over and declared, “Tire down.” Right when I started to find a secure spot to pull over on the busy highway, I heard honking next to me. This run-down suv pulled up roaring next to me. The lady in the car started to point towards my tire and yell a warning. In the midst of locating a safe position to pull over within the waves of vehicles, I brushed her off with a quick thumbs up.
Once we pulled over, flicked the hazard lights on, phoned our saviors—our dads, and called AAA, my friend and I started laughing about the whole situation-of course this would happen to us, and while dusk was rolling in, we were just thankful none of this had happened downtown. As we awaited our fathers and AAA, I saw a decaying car start to get closer and closer to mine. Thinking it would be nothing, I checked to make sure my car was locked. Then the mammoth of a car, pulled over right in front of mine. Knowing that this car could not have a flat, I checked again to make sure the doors were locked as I slid to the emergency page on my phone. My friend and I just kept looking at this car waiting for someone to jump out. As the car door opened and a foot swung out, a gasp of relief slipped from my friend’s mouth. It was the same woman that had informed us not too long ago.
She came over to my car and motioned for me to roll down the window. Still heedful, I opened it just a crack. She leaned in, smiling-the sort of smile that just radiates joy, and asked, “I have a spare in my car. I can help you change this!” Knowing my dad and AAA would arrive any moment, I thanked her for her help and kindness but refused the thoughtful offer.
Right when she left, my aid arrived, and within ten minutes, my friend and I were rolling again.
That night, after the fireworks and good food, I lay in bed thinking about her. It saddened me that my first reaction of her was negative. The first action I thought she would pursue was take out a weapon of some sort. As she was walking up to my car, I thought of all the ways my friend and I could get out safely. Not for a single second did I think she had the capacity of being a righteous woman, not until she offered her assistance. I started to feel remorseful to the way I reacted to her—from the quick dismissal on the highway to the hurried thanks as she stopped by. She obviously has a life of her own that she could have gone to, but she drove all the way back just to help me.
I never used to behave like this, but recently, every maneuver I see, I am prudent of. In wake of the tragedies that have occurred in this past year alone, we at times hold no hope for society. It is people like this woman, people that, no matter the magnitude of the situation or cost, that truly show the real definition of compassion. As cheesy as it may seem, people like that are the reason why we will never be broken down—no matter how many flats we face in life. The potholes will always remain, but it is the people that are always looking out for those in need that will keep us from being pulled over.
So to the woman who so graciously paused her life to help mine, thank you for coming in clutch (literally).
