Monday, November 25, 2024
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Tire trouble
I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.
Randy gave his niece $1700 to give the cemetery director, money for his mama’s plot when she died five years ago without warning and without insurance. He was surprised, then, when the cemetery man found him after the funeral and asked for his money. Randy’s niece had made a beeline for her car after the service, and Randy, never a rich man, wrote another check.
Neither of his brothers had any money, and he did at the moment, so he also paid $7000 for the funeral. Now he’s looking for a better job than the one he has in the Arkansas rice plant which gets him about $400 each week. “I’m just glad I had the money then that we needed,” he said. He was saving for some remodeling on his house in Forrest City, but that hasn’t quite happened yet. One of these days.
That evening Randy was hanging out with his wife at her own job managing Exxon in the evenings. I pulled into the parking lot with a blown tire, a few hundred feet from the curb at Days Inn which I didn’t see and which hammered me. He said he had a friend, who had a tire shop, and he called him. It took a few calls. Then Mario showed up in his truck with a load of tires in the back. His helper Junebug Jackson pulled out the jack, took off my tire, and they left again. “I’ll get this patched up,” Mario said. “
This is our new Prius, with 1900 miles under its virgin hood. These are my prized Michelin tires, barely used. There’s no spare tire in these new cars, you know, just a tube of gel and a small compressor – made for punctures, not blowouts. I have had other collisions with curbs, this was another in a fairly long line. And I was happy not to have the AAA driver come and take me 3 miles before charging me for the tow. Mario was my hero. “I’ll be back in ten minutes or so,” he said.
But he was gone an hour or longer, and so Randy and I got to talk about funerals and such. When Mario and Junebug got back they had a different tire, new but wider than the one they couldn’t repair. It worked. I was happy. I bid farewell to Randy and his wife, to Mario and Junebug, and I went to sleep, relaxed at the Day’s Inn.
Beautiful weather the next morning, and I headed north through Missouri and across the Mississippi into Illinois. My new tire began to leak, however, after a hundred miles or so. I aired it up with my nifty compressor, and the tire light disappeared. When it reappeared after another hundred miles, I aired up again. The tire light reappeared about 50 miles down the road, so this time after airing up, I took a road through the woods to Anna Tire and Auto.
I heard a sound from heaven like the sound of rushing water or a loud peal of thunder. The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps.
Well … my rescue tire lasted awhile. How could I not be grateful?
Brandon at the tire shop called twenty or so places looking for the tire I needed, a new tire only for the 2024 Prius, nothing in stock anywhere. So he put on the same size tire Mario brought, wondering if the same thing would happen again. Was the wider tire rubbing on something under the car?
“Let’s cross our fingers, Dave. Maybe you’ll make it home.”
All those phone calls gave me plenty of time to talk with the receptionist, whose daughters gave her six grand-dogs, but not yet a grandbaby. Her 19 year old might be living with her for a long time –bipolar ADHD keeps her working with little kids, babies, loving them but making little money. She had trouble getting through high school at home. Her meds and therapy don’t help enough, but her family holds on around her. Her mom has learned patience. She is looking forward to Thanksgiving. She is settling into a kind of peace.
Brandon looked me in the eyes. “As soon as you get home, Dave, if you get there on this tire, don’t keep it. Get the right sized tire put on right away.”
Well, I made it home. The tire light did not come on. Maybe the Arkansas tire had some problems. And I did call Napleton Toyota and they did order me the right tire (it took them a few calls, too). I have an appointment this morning to get that new tire installed.
In this last week of Ordinary Time 2024, I am enjoying the prospect of not knowing. Whatever happens next is not up to me, although I do what I can. The mountain doesn’t move. God makes the ground firm.
Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord, or who may stand in his holy place?
(Revelation 14, Psalm 96, Revelation 2, Luke 21)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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