It was a crumby van in handicapped parking, branded with “Need a Ride?” and a telephone number. Its driver’s finger fished for the latch, blindly trying to pop the hood to add coolant. As I passed with my canvas grocery bags, I offered help while silently trying to decide if I’d ever successfully opened my own car’s hood. After the woman engaged in some argumentative banter with her teenaged daughter, the latch was pronounced unopenable (her “redneck husband” had wired it shut). As she released me from my failed neighborliness, she thanked me.
“Oh, I didn’t do anything...”
“You cared.”
No comments:
Post a Comment