Picked this button up in the road on my run earlier this week.
Considering where I live, the meaning behind this is pretty clear. In the deepest of the South, most march along in lockstep in the two big conversations we are having right now: politics and religion. But what a contradictory thing this button says to a critical person who just might parse out bits of the books of the Bible to support any cause. It HAS been done.
At the intersection of politics and religion a lot of nastiness has taken place, and set to rot both organizations.
It is the holiday season. We feel better and want to do good things. Glenn and I had an opportunity the other day.
Going out on my near daily run of four miles, I noticed a car parked where our road intersects the local two lane. People were just sitting in the car, didn’t want to stare, and so I crossed the road and continued the run, two miles down and two miles back one long pavement.
On the way back, approaching the intersection, I saw a SC State Police car. Wondered if I was stupid enough not to have noticed it was a cop that I avoided staring at earlier. Getting closer, he was parked behind the stranded car and talking to the driver of the original.
Running past, he was saying to the driver “you have to get this car out of here, one way or another”, and the driver kept turning his key with the car producing this incredible clicking. Old, worn our car. And I knew like the back of my hand that these people had no money for a tow.
I ran past the conversation and down the dirt road to our house. Then I thought—Glenn could move this car! He has a big truck and a car hauling trailer. I thought about Christmases in my early twenties where the simple cost of a tree was a huge extra expense. And when I needed a set of new tires one December and my Dad sent me the money. It was absolutely beyond me to buy tires.
I thought about the kids in Newtown, Ct., and what their parents had asked us all to do, and turned around and ran back down the road. Came to the passenger window, and true to the old car, it would not roll down.
Walked around and told the driver that my husband could move the car for him. He responded, very quietly three times and I could not understand him. Finally he pulled a new part out of a plastic bag and wondered if my husband could fix the car. “No, but he can take your car back home”.
Went to speak to the cop. At first he discouraged me, but then changed his mind. He knew these people and said they were “harmless”. “Just take them home, and nowhere else”. OK.
Long story short, that’s just what we did. Glenn pulled that car up on the trailer with his beloved tools and his back. The people, maybe brother and sister, were quiet, and maybe a little overwhelmed. They did not say much.
Am thrilled to dedicate the help to these people who were in trouble and had no way out, to the memory of the innocent and pure children of Sandy Hook Elementary School.