We Stopped to Help

More than forty years ago, my first wife Carol and I lived with our young son Paul in Price, Utah (a small town in the southeastern part of the state). I don't remember where we had been but to get home we had to travel through the canyon. It was approximately 9 o’clock at night and we saw a parked car with its hood up with a man underneath it trying to fix some type of mechanical problem.

We debated whether we should stop and offer help (Disclaimer: I am not nor ever have been a mechanic). We were ready to drive past feeling like we had nothing to offer this man, but then we saw two or three young children and their mother. Without much more thought we pulled over and approached the parents.

After visiting with them for a few minutes I felt comfortable inviting them to jump in our car and come home with us and spend the night. When I made this offer my wife flashed me the “Are you crazy” look and I shrugged my shoulders and gave her the silent message, “Well, duh! They need some help!” I could tell she was not very happy (and rightly so) but I had already made the invitation. What could I do except honor my commitment?

This young couple (in reality they were probably our age) were visibly relieved that they would have someplace to stay and not have to spend the night in their car stranded in the canyon. 

Somehow, the husband jerry rigged his car together enough to drive it to our house and park it in the driveway so in the morning he could take it to a mechanic to get fixed. 

I remember that on our drive home my good wife was sharing her thoughts, letting me know her true feelings about the situation I got us in. Let me just say that she had strong feelings about it, and I knew that she was highly displeased. Not because she wasn’t willing to share food, beds (or floor), or whatever else we had. She was not like that. She was concerned for the safety of our family, especially our young son. Today I can admit that she had reasons to be concerned because we did not know these people nor anything about them.

By the time we got home both of us had calmed down and decided to make the best of the situation.

The family came into our home and enjoyed our hospitality. We really enjoyed the visit before bedtime, breakfast together the next morning, and chatting while their car was being fixed. 

The time arrived for us to say goodbye to our new friends and to be honest both Carol and I hated to see them leave, but life must go on. 
While I share this story, I sincerely hope that neither my kids nor anyone else will emulate my actions (i.e., bringing strangers home and letting them be so close to family members). But I would encourage all of us to be kind to strangers (and everyone else for that matter), help others and share our blessings when we can do so safely and appropriately. 

Kindness is never out of fashion, so let’s teach our children to recognize and act on opportunities to do something positive for others. 

Happy Failing Forward,

Calvert


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