i squealed out of the driveway, late, only to whip it into drive and zoom back down. Left the front lights on. I yanked the keys out and jerked the car door open with my shoulder, “be right back, need to do something!” I yelled over my shoulder while my son asked what he could do to help from the passenger seat. “Nothing! I got this!”
We were on the way to a Thanksgiving feast to celebrate. I was running late and had spent the morning scurrying around trying to get the house perfect for the potential buyers who were touring while we were out.
I got to the first stop sign in our neighborhood and tapped the brake, before I sailed through. Then, I noticed her. My elderly neighbor pushing his walker through soggy grass towards her mail box. I kept going. The ice. I saw the ice. Around the mailbox. She would walk there. I don’t want to stop, Lord, I am in a hurry. I have had a lot on my plate lately.
I jerked the car into reverse. I had noticed. I couldn’t let her get hurt. I could see her, in my mind’s eyes, slipping, shattering bones. My aunt had just fallen and broken her hip the week before. I backed haphazardly and jumped out of the car saying, “I don’t want you to slip! It’s icy out here.”
“I know, they should do something about that! Thank you!”
I handed her the mail and got back in the car.
“You did your good deed for the day, Mom,” my son said.