Karma, luck (both bad and good), "Paying it Forward", Murphy's Law...whatever you want to call it, it seems like I've been having some coincidences concerning situations with my car the last 3 weeks. They have all happened at the same time and it didn't really hit me until after my last post about running out of gas. Here are the stories:
Story #1: My dear friend had a baby about 3 weeks ago, so I planned to visit her in the hospital. On my way, I stopped to pick up some necessities--chocolate, Diet Coke, a good magazine, etc. to make her hospital stay more enjoyable. While I was checking out, a sweet older woman was standing behind me holding a road map. She asked me if I knew where a small town (I can't remember the name now) was located on the border of Nevada and Idaho. I had never heard of it but she needed directions to get to I-15. She thought she was in a completely different area of Las Vegas and got lost and turned around. I explained how to get back to the freeway but she looked completely frazzled and tears were welling up in her eyes. The employee and I tried to explain and write down the directions but she was extremely frustrated. So I offered to have her follow me out to I-15. The hospital was close to the entrance so it was no trouble at all. She put a huge smile on her face and we left the store. I told her that I was going to take an exit before the freeway exit but that she would just continue about 1/2 mile and take the exit to I-15. As I was getting off my exit, I put my hand out the window to wave her on but she followed me off so I pulled over and explained that the freeway entrance was just ahead. She gave me a big hug and told me that I had helped an 80-year-old woman on her way home. I asked her if she had a cell phone or could call anyone if she got into trouble. She just smiled and said that her husband was waiting for her in that town and that she could just follow the map once she got on the interstate. She said she had driven there before but had gotten turned around once she was in the city. I told her that I was worried about her but she said that I had helped enough. Then she waved, gave me a grin, and drove off. I waited to watch her enter the freeway and said a little prayer that she would get to her destination without any trouble.
Story #2: We have been putting a pool in our backyard and doing some landscaping. We have a large driveway and many trucks have been parked there and coming in and out for the last few weeks. I needed to pick up the kindergarten carpool so as I was leaving, I noticed a truck in the driveway. I was trying to pull out around the truck and to avoid hitting him with the back end of my car, I got a little too close to the wall of my garage and scraped the side door panel thing on the garage stucco.
Obviously, I was very frustrated and it brought back some sad memories of when I was trying to do a good thing by very carefully scraping the snow off the hood of our red Yukon after a week-long snowstorm in Maryland. That was the worst snowstorm I had seen and there was probably 6 feet of snow on the ground. When the snow finally stopped falling, all the neighbors were out brushing the snow off their cars with brooms and shovels. Joe had always told me not to use a broom because the bristles would scratch the paint. So I was gently sliding the snow off with a shovel. Unfortunately, I got too close to the hood one time and scratched it with metal instead! Thank heavens I have a bro-in-law that owns a car dealership because he has hooked us up numerous times. When he said that fingernail polish (Hee Hee) wouldn't cut it, he mixed up a little bottle of paint and we kept it in the car for future stupidity on my part.
Now our car is a different color so I think I need to place a call and get another mix of color for those moments that I've previously explained. My husband just rolls his eyes at me when I tell him that a car won't be perfect forever and if I don't scratch it myself, the children will, or another car in the parking lot will, or some rock will dent or scratch it or a 10-year-old boy will throw a baseball, denting it and breaking the tail light. I think that's pretty good justification for yet another blonde moment.
Story #3: The "out of gas" story that I already posted. Luckily for me that sweet high school senior with a retainer pulled over to help me out on that one.
Story #4: We were riding our bikes to school on Thursday morning when I saw a young gal sitting on the road next to her car talking on the cell phone. It was at the back of our neighborhood and as I passed her, I noticed that there was a big hole in her tire. I had to get my kids to school and she was on the phone so I figured she was getting some help. When we were riding back, she was still there and a gal in our ward and neighborhood was talking to her. I parked my bike and asked if they needed some help. The girl said that her friend wrecked his car so he couldn't come help her and that she had just dropped her other friend off at work so he couldn't come. She worked for a family in our neighborhood that was out of town and the tire blew on her boss' car. So they were trying to change the tire.
The girl didn't really have a clue what to do so she sat on the ground and was texting. Cassandra was trying to figure out how to lower the tire that was underneath the car. We pulled out the manual and read that the jack fit into a hole above the bumper and when you twisted the jack, the tire would lower to the ground and you could unscrew it and pull it out. (Most of you probably already know this) The jack was not working at all. It fit and turned but the tire did not come down. There was a pool guy parked a couple of houses up so I asked him if he knew the trick. He tried to turn it as well but it was not lowering. He went back and rummaged through his truck and brought back a longer, different jack that had a little lip on the end of it. We stuck it in the hole and that made all the difference because the tire came down. He left to take care of the neighbor's pool, so Cassandra and I jacked up the car, pulled off the blown tire, put the new one on, brought down the car, tightened the bolts, and threw the ruined tire in the back of the car. The girl just looked at us, thanked us, and took off down the street. My hands were as black as the road and Carlee told me that I was dirty and needed to take a shower but I had done a good deed and I think my dad would have been pretty proud that I remembered how to change a tire. Thanks, Dad!
Later that day, I also got to give Amber a ride so that she could get her car fixed. This was obviously not a big deal and nothing too crazy to even tell about but she did buy me lunch and I was happy just to spend some extra time with a dear friend.
All of these coincidences and stories have just reaffirmed what I already know--when you give, you get. I was able to help a couple of people, a couple of people were able to help me, and lessons were learned along the way. I'm not hoping for any more situations to keep teaching that principle, but I'm definitely grateful that there are still kind people willing to sacrifice their time and selves to help out, because unfortunately, too many people just drive by.
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