We were standing next to my old car, out of gas and out of money. It was three miles to home and five miles to the nearest gas station; the temperature was over 100 degrees. My ten-year-old daughter was trying to tell me not to worry, we can take the groceries and walk home, but after the walk through the store, my legs were hurting (when I was born in the 50's there was a polio outbreak and I was one of the children that contracted it).
We had been living in the desert for two years with no electric or running water, and there was no money. I took the chance that I could make it to the store and back on the gas that was in the car. I was wrong and was at my wit's end.
After about 10 minutes another old car pulled up. In the car was a Native American family that lived a few miles down the road from me. These people were always aloof and did not interact with other people in the area and even a wave to them did not garner a response. The wife got out of the car and asked if they could help. I explained that I was out of gas and had no money for more. She got back in her car and turned around and went back down the road. Twenty minutes later they returned with five gallons of gas. I told them that I didn't have the money to give them for the gas. "Yes, I heard you the first time," she said. They got my car going and we were home in a few minutes.
As soon as I could, I went to their place to give them their money back, but they had moved away. I cannot pay them back for their kindness, nor can I make up for having felt that they were aloof and uncaring people. But whenever I can I try to help others along my way and in the process, remember them.
Submitted by Anonymous