I still recall those words from yesterday. I can't get them out of my thoughts. What's wrong with me? Why should I care? I didn't know him.
So it goes.
I was on my way to purchase a new battery for my car when a guy flagged me down. He mouthed a few words that I couldn't hear. So I rolled down my window. "What?"
He was well dressed and had on his work clothes. I couldn't make out the actual company on his name tag, but I suspect he worked for a local grocery.
"Do you have two dollars for gas?" he asked.
I was prepared. I have experienced this before. "No, I don't." But I did have two dollars. He looked frantic and quickly rushed off toward a gas station.
I drove off.
The first minute after our encounter, I believed what I did was right. But then as I drove further away, I began to regret not parting with a few dollars to help someone. I became more confused with my rationale. I had plenty of money in my wallet. I could part with a fiver and not think about it farther.
I questioned the brief encounter. "Why would a clean-cut young man need two dollars, so close to Christmas, and obviously in good health?"
I didn't know why I should feel quilt for such a small sum of money, but I did and as the day wander about I too began to flither the dusk: not more than two hours until my bed and I had not thought more of this single encounter than I had of all my troubles this past year.
Now it is another day, and I am still in doubt. Maybe I should have gone back and tracked him down. Maybe I should have given the money and not have any regrets. But now I can't help think that this moment was more, and meant as a lesson. Did I fail? I won't know until later.
So it goes.
I was on my way to purchase a new battery for my car when a guy flagged me down. He mouthed a few words that I couldn't hear. So I rolled down my window. "What?"
He was well dressed and had on his work clothes. I couldn't make out the actual company on his name tag, but I suspect he worked for a local grocery.
"Do you have two dollars for gas?" he asked.
I was prepared. I have experienced this before. "No, I don't." But I did have two dollars. He looked frantic and quickly rushed off toward a gas station.
I drove off.
The first minute after our encounter, I believed what I did was right. But then as I drove further away, I began to regret not parting with a few dollars to help someone. I became more confused with my rationale. I had plenty of money in my wallet. I could part with a fiver and not think about it farther.
I questioned the brief encounter. "Why would a clean-cut young man need two dollars, so close to Christmas, and obviously in good health?"
I didn't know why I should feel quilt for such a small sum of money, but I did and as the day wander about I too began to flither the dusk: not more than two hours until my bed and I had not thought more of this single encounter than I had of all my troubles this past year.
Now it is another day, and I am still in doubt. Maybe I should have gone back and tracked him down. Maybe I should have given the money and not have any regrets. But now I can't help think that this moment was more, and meant as a lesson. Did I fail? I won't know until later.
