The little things

Today, I did something I have never done before. And it was extremely moving and beautiful to me...

I had run into Walmart this afternoon with my two littlest ones, for just a few minutes to make an exchange. As I left the store and pulled out of the parking lot, I passed a woman walking on the side of the road, loaded down with several bags of groceries. She was headed the same direction I was going, but she was on the opposite side of the street from me.

Her hair was covered with a head scarf, but lots of gray strands were coming loose, blowing in the wind. And her shoulders look stooped, either from her age or her load. As I drove past her, she looked over at me and smiled. That little voice in my head said softly, "give her a ride." I was still driving, so I bit my lip and looked in the rearview mirror at her again as I kept going. My rational side started in with all the reasons I should not pick up a total stranger and give her a ride. Camille was almost asleep and needed to be home soon for her nap. Natalie was telling me a very important five-year-old story that I was having trouble focusing on.

That little voice persisted, without arguing back with my many reasons, but just saying softly, give her a ride. I had gone three quarters of a mile, down the hill to the four-way stop sign. I finally answered the voice, almost whispering "OK" out loud as I turned the car around.

By the time I got back to her, she had set down her bags, and was rubbing her wrists, like they were maybe hurting. There wasn't much room on the side of the road, but I pulled over, put my hazard lights on, and motioned to her with a shrug, and pointed at my passenger seat. She nodded emphatically, and started gathering her bags. As she approach the car, I rolled down the window and asked, "Can I give you a ride somewhere?" She nodded again, then said, "Si!!" and started rattling off a big long sentence in Spanish.

I nodded politely, and was trying to decipher any words I might be familiar with, but none of it was making sense in the least. I used my broken Spanish to tell her I really don't understand much, then in English said, "but I'm happy to give you a ride," and gestured for her to get in.

She opened up the sliding door of our minivan, and started to put her bags of groceries on the floor by Natalie's feet. What I had thought was maybe three or four bags, was more like eight or nine! I have no idea how she was carrying it all as well as she was! When she had unloaded them, she climbed in the front seat beside me, with her purse on her lap.

She started talking to me in Spanish again, and my whole heart wanted to understand her. Her smile was so sincere, and her disposition so cheerful and bright, despite what looked to be a hard situation. I just smiled and nodded, and tried to answer with the few Spanish direction words I can remember. She directed me into a nearby neighborhood, where I drove straight for nearly a mile, then turned on a side street for another quarter-mile before stopping at a small but nicely maintained house on a corner... It would have been a long, windy walk.

She got out, opened the back door, and unload her groceries into the driveway beside her. Then she leaned back into the car toward me, and asked if she could pay me some money. (At least, that's what I gathered?) I shook my head no, and smiled.

At the same time, that little voice in my head again said to me, "YOU give HER money." The truth is, I almost never have cash with me, and if I do, it is buried in some odd pocket in my purse or wallet somewhere. So I was struggling with what to do about this little voice, when it added, "in your coat pocket."

I put my hand into my pocket, and pulled out a $20 bill! I stared at it and amazement for a moment, having no idea how it got there, then I reached across the seat and held it out to her. "Para ti," I said. "For you." 

She looked at it, then looked up at me. She reached out to take it, then wrapped both of her hands around mine. When she looked up at me again, there were tears in her eyes, and in mine. "Thank you," she whispered in very broken English.

"Merry Christmas," I said.

"Merry Christmas," she said back to me, again in broken English.

She closed the door, and I backed the car out of her driveway, and then I really started to cry. Yes, I had done something kind for a stranger. But that wasn't the only reason I felt so moved, so touched; It was that undeniable feeling that I had been on the Lord's errand, helping to answer another sister's prayer today. That little voice was real, and powerful, and something that I often hear but don't always stop to listen to. I'm so glad I listened today.