Thank You For The Car
When that 1991 Chevy Silverado got up to 55 MPH, that baby hummed. Well, it didn’t hum so much as beg for mercy. The two of us were headed to my parent’s house for the weekend—that was a lonely summer and I required some company.
Less than 50 miles in, the car died. Yeah, it just died on the interstate. Fortunately I was in the left lane and could coast into the field in between the northbound and southbound lanes.
I had no idea what to do. I’d never been in this type of situation before. I was 50 miles from home and 150 miles from my parents.
Then I realized where I was—about 10 miles from this super awesome couple I’d known for about three years. I called them up, informed them of my situation, and they were in the car and on their way before they hung up the phone. They helped me coordinate the tow truck to the closest garage. And at that garage, they met me with a car they didn’t happen to be using and said, “Keep it as long as you’d like.”
Within a couple hours the weekend proceeded as if nothing happened.
This story is only a small subset of what these people provide to the loved ones in their lives. Cars, rent, and cell phone plans are a few examples. They want their loved ones to have it easy. And they make sure we don’t forget to have fun. That’s why they also share fancy, buttery steak dinners, baseball games, and front row tickets to Wicked.
I’ve known this couple for more than a decade. I was nervous when I first met them, and yet they welcomed me with open arms. They’ve always treated me as though I was part of their family, even when I was just some strange, long-haired, idiot teenager.
To these two people I say, Thank you for the car. And thank you for making me feel like part of your family.