Bjcorbin's Blog

This morning, on the way to work, I stopped by a convenience store for a cup of coffee. As I got out of my car, I noticed a lady sitting in her car with the window down; as though she was waiting for someone. As I passed by her, she looked at me like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. After I got my coffee, I noticed that she was still there and as I walked back by, she called out to me. With a sheepish expression on her face, she quietly asked, “could you possibly help me with enough gas to get home?” I wish I could say that I didn’t even hesitate to help her, but the truth is that I immediately began to try to evaluate this women and her situation. She seemed pretty clear eyed. Her car was much newer than mine and seemed to be well maintained. In as much as I could discern, she seemed sincere. I’m not sure what I hoped to derive from those observations, as I asked, “where is home?” When she named a town that was almost fifty miles south of where we were, the little cash register in my mind began to calculate how much gas she’d need to make it that far.

For me, this kind of thing is always a wrestling match. The pragmatic side of me wants to question, “what if she’s just trying to panhandle a tank of gas”, “what if she spent all her money on drugs and now you’re helping her get her stash back to the neighborhood”, what if, what if, what if…? But the other side of me asks, “what if this were your mom, or your sister or your wife or one of your daughters?” “Wouldn’t you want someone trustworthy to be there for them?” Of course, all of these things flash through your mind in a nanosecond and ultimately, you just have to go with your strongest impulse. This morning, that impulse was to tell her to pull up to the pump and to head back in to pre-pay for some gas.

As I pulled out of the lot, she waved to me and mouthed the words “thank you”; and as I traveled down the highway, I found myself saying a little prayer for her. She hadn’t offered an explanation of what was going on, so all I could do was pray that God get her home safely; and maybe that’s all she needed. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what her story was. I’ve lived long enough to experience times of being stranded, of being alone and of just wanting to get home. And in those times, it has often been the kindness of strangers that made all the difference. At this point in my life, I’d rather take the chance of being swindled than to take the chance that I ignored someone who really needed help. Some might refer to this as “paying it forward”, and while I hope that might be true, I can also say that I’ve probably got some “paying back” to do. It seems to me that on an almost daily basis there are opportunities to reach out and be a neighbor to someone. To my shame, I often miss those opportunities. On the days that I manage to seize that moment, I can’t help but wonder why I don’t do that more often.

We live in a time and in a culture where it is easy to be cynical about people’s motivations; but even so, there are many who still have the genuine need of a helping hand. I pray that our cynicism will not overcome our desire to reach out to the people around us.