a walk down an icy hill
The snow piled up. 6 inches. 12 inches. 18 inches. 24 inches. With a layer of ice in-between. I didn’t want to stay inside any longer. It was halftime as the Packers took a 21-13 lead over the Cowboys. I added another layer of clothes and some long underwear. I put on another pair of socks. I put on, not one, but two stocking hats. And then threw on my coat.
I grabbed 4 books and a notebook and began to trek down the icy hill so that I could order a soy milk latte.
Only a few cars dared the street I lived on, which remained an ice block for at least 4 days. As I walked, in the distance, I heard the rev of an engine. I knew a car must be stuck, as I had been, just days prior.
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I was coming home from work that morning. I knew, before leaving, I shouldn’t drive to work. And I continued to debate my decision to drive as I navigated the ice and snow. I was skeptical at best that I could make it home. I thought of parking at the bottom of the hill and calling for a ride home but stubbornness and ego seemed to win as I continued to drive up the hill, ignoring all stop signs and anything that would slow my car from moving.
I reached the top of the hill and as I started to pull on to my street, my car stopped. The engine revved, I was stuck. I called my roommate who quickly came out of the house and ran down the street to help me. He tried pushing, but to no avail. Another person walked by and began pushing as well and I was able to get home. As we turned around to thank him, he was gone.
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I continued walking down the hill, I heard the engine rev louder and louder. I finally came up to the rough looking, red car, completely stuck. The driver kept revving the car, only digging it in deeper. I looked over at the car and the helpless driver, and I continued walking down the hill.
Without prompt, an inner dialogue began in my head. I told myself that I would have helped him, but I was holding a pile of books and where would I put them?
One of the books, was my old, red, worn-out Bible that had been gifted to me 9 years ago.
I was walking down to Starbucks to read my Bible while walking right past a stranded motorist.
I mean seriously, what’s the point of reading my Bible if I’m not going to love my neighbor.
I kept walking down the hill. I kept talking to myself. I was imagining myself reading my Bible, drinking as Train would say, 'the best my soy milk latte that I’ve ever had.' And while I imagined this, I wondered what it all meant if I couldn’t help someone on the side of the road.
I turned around and started walking back up the hill.
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And as I walked away, replying to his thankfulness, I responded, “Absolutely, someone else did the same for me.”
