So a couple nights ago Jonny and I were driving to this musical to help out with sound, and not two minutes after departing from our house, I found myself behind a car with their four-ways on. They were about a hundred feet away from a red light and a few cars were in between me and them.
I wanted to help them out and get them off the road, but like some cars in front of me, I didn’t have the time, so I simply drove around them and toward the light. (Slightly dangerous, yes, but I was cautious.)
Then Jonny and I drove on our merry way, feeling bad for the poor car stuck on the street but nonetheless powerless to really do anything.
After returning home later that evening, I told my dad about the situation. During my rambling, I realized there was no real point to what I was saying other than it was a peculiar predicament and I wish I could have helped. My dad turned to me and chuckled.
“Oh, I helped move their car, actually.”
I was shocked. He assisted them? Of all people! I instantly felt both proud and humored by the fact that, unbeknownst to me, he was on his way home from the grocery store and happened to pass them right after I did.
But unlike me, he pulled right to the side of the road, hopped out of his car, and went to help the family out. You must understand that this is my dad everyday, seeing needs and supplementing his faith with deeds. His words and actions are balanced just right, and I’m always aspiring to be like him.
Isn’t that funny how two stories connect so well, both unknown by the storytellers until they’re told? I wonder what other stories have yet to be shared that connect the dots to this intertwined world of ours.