No. 68 - $4.00 worth of gas

Funny how it seems, at times, that we so easily forget who we are, where we are, and what we claim we are about. And it’s peculiar how we are tested when we least expect it. For sure, there must be a book somewhere that records our every word and then quickly goes about setting things into play to let us prove our character.

Such was my experience today.

I had just completed work at a local place of worship. As I walked toward my car I heard a commotion. I looked over and across the street, through the fence, and watched as an older man, late 50’s I would say, hurriedly went from one person to the next. As I took in the scene it looked as if he was being shadowed by a woman.

I watched and vaguely heard his rushed words as one person after the next turned him down. He did not become upset... he would simply move on to the next person. Funny though, it seemed the street was abuzz with activity. Cars went by, mothers and children walked by, pairs of friends strolled along... yet no one seemed to be willing or able to help this gentleman.

I watched a moment longer... then I turned away to get into my car. After all, he had it covered. And then I heard him calling toward me.

I turned to look and there he was, boldly approaching me... saying something... words which became clearer to me as he finally stopped, standing less than five feet away.

“That’s my wife over there... she’s four months pregnant. I pray to God that you can help us. I had to come to my meeting today... just made it, then I ran out of gas. Can you help?” he said.

I looked at the woman again and sure enough I could see the tell-tale sign of a young life growing in the small rounded pouch that protruded before her.

It was hot... almost 90 degrees and there was no wind. I sweat just standing there. I looked at him a bit closer and could see his sweat as well.
“We just need a little gas to get to the house. I come here every week. If you leave your information I’ll pay you back. My back is out... I can’t walk in this heat,” he said.

I had put $4.00 in my pocket this morning. Not sure why... just did. I suppose, in retrospect, I had put it in my pocket for this moment.

“I will help,” I told him, and then he was heading towards his parked truck. I heard him say thank you more than once. I told him I’d pull over so we could go and get the gas.

When I pulled up to his truck his wife came over with a gas can. I was a little surprised but said nothing. He looked at me and said: “This truck has all we got in it... I’ll stay here and rest my back while you two go get the gas.”

I looked at the truck... it was filled with wood... pieces of board from some broken old building or some dilapidated old floor... to the point of overflowing. She wasted no time coming over and getting in.

I introduced myself, she introduced herself. I have to say it was awkward and I wasn’t sure about this at all. Did I miss something? Was I about to be hustled? Why would a man allow his wife to go with a stranger? What “rules of engagement” had been broken?

Then I remembered how my mother had helped others as we grew up. I remembered the good Samaritan story of old, and all the stories of good people helping those in need. I released my fear and doubt long enough to put myself in their shoes to try and understand... and long enough to consider these two strangers could be two angels.

Some may think my view is “pie-in-the-sky”. It may have been foolish of me to be trusting. Somehow I felt I was being tested. Here I was coming out of a church, there to help others, and just as I exit I’m faced with the choice of whether of not to help someone in real immediate need.

We got to the gas station and I gave her the $4.00. She graciously thanked me, went inside and paid for the gas. She came out and got $4.00 worth of gas, returning to the car with a sense of relief and joy.

“We really thank you,” she said. I said it was no problem and we headed back to her waiting husband.

When we arrived he was sitting with the door half open... I thought he was in a daze or about to pass out. He looked as though he was not feeling well. When asked, he said his back was killing him, having pulled it while getting the wood.

She got out of the car and thanked me again. They both did. I told them it was no problem... because it wasn’t. I then drove off.

As I drove towards my next stop I wondered about this unusual couple. I wondered how they had come to be together... how could they be together. It seemed so unlikely - him so old and her looking half his age... and pregnant to boot. I then recalled watching how she tenderly shared holding the gas can with her husband after I had dropped her off, their empty tank waiting for the needed gas.

I try to place some value on the $4.00 worth of gas as I allow the memory of the experience to settle in my mind. It occurs to me the value of that little bit of money was as such - at least to this couple:

Got them home after a long day of trials and tribulation in the hot Oakland Sun
Gave them an opportunity to keep trying to make a living for themselves
Created an opportunity for them to work together, to find a way to demonstrate their care and commitment even during this challenge

...And most importantly,

Showed them that prayers are answered.