I offered a ride to a stranger walking along the side of a rural thoroughfare at dusk. I assumed that the car parked in the grass on the opposite side of the road was hers and that it had broken down. She bent over and peered into my passenger side window to make certain I was alone and unarmed. She climbed into the back seat, thanked me for rescuing her, and gave me directions to her house. I tried my best to ignore the stench of cigarettes and booze.
As I drove, I glimpsed in the rearview mirror and noticed the stranger crying. I compassionately inquired about her upset and listened to her story. Her car did not break down. In fact, the one I saw did not belong to her or to her inebriated husband who moments before had put her life in grave danger with his reckless driving. She told me she saw no other option than to eject herself from their rapidly moving vehicle to escape his fury. He had sped away, leaving her alone in the dirt.
I was surprised to hear that through this harrowing experience the woman’s main concern was that she not snag her new pair of four-dollar pantyhose. Sensing something quite bizarre about the entire situation, I proceeded to ask her several questions as we drove on.
“Do you think we should call the police from my cell phone?” I worried about our safety if the enraged husband were to be home awaiting our arrival. “Would you like me to drop you off at a friend’s instead?” But the woman insisted that she’d be fine if I would let her off two blocks away from her house, which was approximately five miles from where I had picked her up. I complied.
“You’re an angel!” the stranger declared as she exited. She reached for my hand and gently squeezed it. I cautioned her not to accept further abuse, and I silently prayed for her safety.
Before driving away, I glanced at the back seat to make certain she had not left anything behind, like the purse or sweater she had been carrying. Yes, she had left something behind. She had urinated in my back seat! The upholstery was saturated in a large circle. In disbelief, I watched out the front passenger window as the woman walked away from my car in urine-stained shorts and brand-new pantyhose.
Upon hearing of my Good Samaritan experience, my cynical schoolmate Kristina remarked, “That’s what happens when you try to help someone. You get pissed on!” I was pissed off and on.
Today, I laugh at that situation not because the circumstances were funny, but because of the peculiar ways in which life presents its lessons. I learned that when we get involved with others, things can get messy. But that should not deter us from opening our arms to another who needs a lift. Sometimes, we need to clean up after one another. Someday, we might be left in the dirt or in a back seat where we lose control. How can we expect an angel to pick us up when we are at the curb of life if we are not willing to do the same?
I do not know what my stopping the car meant for that woman; perhaps mine was the only act of kindness she was offered that day. I was blessed with an opportunity to assist, and I gratefully accepted it without a stain of regret.
Be enlightened! ~ M
agape: self-giving love, expressed freely, without thought of cost on the part of the giver or merit on the part of the receiver.
ReplyDeletei will thank you on the part of this lady, as i, too, have put in my time being messy. i have urinated in someone else's car, to say nothing of throwing up. i have jumped out of a lover's car because he was too drunk to drive (god knows i was!) and speeding. the unhealthy or difficult or confusing times of life do tend toward messiness, physical or emotional. thank god--yes, indeed, who else?!--for the people who reach out because they know that Love does not pass out applications, Love just, well, loves.
Hell: a large room, warmly lit, with a long, long table running down the center, and people sitting along both sides of the table, all the way from end to end. the table is covered with a shining white tablecloth, which can barely be seen because of the dishes of food. There are meats and fish and poultry; there are vegetables steamed fresh or with fancy sauces, such as hollandaise; there are soup tureens and salads; there are foods from every country; there are desserts of every kind. Never has such a meal been seen. BUT--none of the people are able to bend their elbows. they cannot bring the incredible food to their mouths! they can only look with longing. hell.
Heaven: the very same picture: the long table, the incredible array of food; the people lining both sides of the table.
BUT--the people are unable to bend their elbows. they cannot feed themselves.
BUT--they are able to reach across the table. they feed each other. love.
you never know when you are reaching out to feed a stranger--or when you are giving jesus a drink of water.
i imagine it is the same thing.
thank you, from my past to yours.
linda
Thank you, Linda, for your transparency.
ReplyDeleteConnection is one reason I host this blog. When we tell of our experiences, we come to see that we are not alone adrift. There is a common cord of humanity that ties us inextricably one to another. Using that cord as a lifeline can prevent us from drowning. This is what Love does: it tugs on the line. But it is up to us to grab hold. I sense from your use of the word “past” that this is what you did, and I commend you.
Love also feeds the elbowless—-stranger or not.
Let’s make it a point to give and receive AGAPE today.
Be enlightened! ~ M
whoops! caught you! yes, you! not your first trip here, either! your presence is really strong! thank you for stopping.
ReplyDeletelinda
This is all very well, and picking up a female is statistically safer, but you can't spread the message if you've been knifed by a psycho hitchhiker. We can never know which action is ideal. We can use whichever thoughts come up, and the accompanying feelings, or trust instict, but whatever the action, it is the right one. Perhaps you could have left the woman. Perhaps, as she saw your car pass her, the only one she'd seen for ages, her despair would have compounded; dejected, she starts the trudge home; wasted, she eventually curls up beside the highway; a not-so-nice man sees her, picks her up, tries to take advantage of her; she manages to get away; she eventually ends up in the hospital; whilst there, she sees what her life has become, leaves the husband and gets into rehab. Sometimes people have to hit rock-bottom to turn their life around. We can never know if we're prolongin another's suffering or relieving it. I think it was the right decision, you picking up that woman, because it was the decision you made at the time and it's impossible to get it "wrong". There are many lessons, and each situation has in it the potential to teach more than one of them.
ReplyDeleteLove your blog!
Linda's Hell scenario: as it's Hell and table manners are probably not that important, what's wrong with face-to-plate eating?
ReplyDeleteTo No One In Particular:
ReplyDeleteI welcome you to Everyday Enlightenment, and I thank you for your comments and elaborate plot outline for what could make a BS list—-Best Seller, I mean. I applaud your spontaneous creativity.
I agree with your notion that we cannot know the outcomes of our actions or how they will affect others. We do the best we are able in the moment. We can suspend judgment of right or wrong because events propel us up an ever-ascending spiral and all true benefits are mutual, despite appearances.
As you pointed out, each situation holds the potential to teach more than one lesson. If a psycho hitchhiker had knifed me, my message using the same story could have focused on forgiveness. My ankle has given way on the blade, but I don’t have to refrain from ice skating. My heart has been broken, but I still love.
Regarding Linda’s view of hell, I too considered the doggie-style dine-in-dish method. I decided, however, this would be impractical because mashed potatoes could become lodged in the nostrils.
Your comments are particularly insightful, No One. You are someone to me. Please visit my blog again and . . .
Be enlightened! ~ M