Sometimes the simplest things can end up meaning so much to someone.
Just yesterday I had a brief encounter with a young woman at a filling station. I know nothing about her except that she drove a truck with a flat tire, and she was crying; had been for some time from the looks of her. I offered to help.
She sat in the cab of her truck and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex as I aired up her tire.
I told her that the tire was full again and I didn’t hear any leaks, but she should keep an eye on it. She turned and looked at me. Her eyes were red and puffy but the look of deep gratitude was unmistakable. She said, “Thank you, thank you so much. God bless you!”
I felt compassion for her and was tempted to question her as to her circumstances and whether I could be of any further help, but I have learned the hard way that such prying often opens situations I wasn’t meant to get into. If God opens the door, I will walk through and deal with what’s inside, confident that I was meant to. But if I pry open the door I generally just get in His way. So I told her that I was happy to have been able to help, and wished her a good day. As she started her truck she gave me that look again and said, “I will … now. Thank you!” and she smiled through teary eyes as she pulled away.
I could tell that my simple act of kindness had made a difference in whatever was causing her such grief. Maybe it was just the flat tire, but somehow I got the sense that the tire was just one piece of a puzzle. Maybe helping her snap that piece into place will help her to locate where the rest go. I hope so. In any case, being able to help her stoked my camp fire of self-satisfaction to a bright blaze. Had I simply sat in my truck impatiently watching as she fumbled with the air hose, we’d both have missed out on a blessing.
