The Good Samaritan

Keeping the rhythm, he propelled himself forward down the road.
Rolling, wheeling, puffing.
His arms ached, his hands were sore and he was breathless.
He wished he hadn’t come out today, but he was a regular and knew he’d be missed if he didn’t attend the Sunday Service.
Rolling, wheeling, puffing.
Oh God, he felt like shit.

Dammit! It was so annoying he’d had a flat battery this morning. The damn thing had been nothing but problematic since the day he’d got it. If it wasn’t the electrics or flat tyres, it was something else, and it was forever in the workshop.
OK, repairs didn’t cost anything as it was still under guarantee, but the inconvenience was a drag, and the loan machines were less powerful and unfamiliar, IF there was one available for him.
Today he was back in his manual wheelchair, and he’d forgotten just how energy draining it was.
Rolling, wheeling, puffing.

The church was over a mile away, and it had taken him more than an hour to get there.
He’d sat in his normal place near the back close to the aisle so as not to block anyone’s path, and everyone had smiled and greeted him.
He was so tired now.
Rolling, wheeling, puffing.
He really didn’t think he could make it home, and there was no-one he could call for help. His wife also used a mobility scooter and it was their lifeline to independence as neither of them drove otherwise.

He looked up and saw a familiar couple walking towards him.
He had no idea of their names, but they always stopped and chatted.
The last thing he wanted was to be taking part in a jovial conversation, but it looked like he had no choice and he didn’t want to be rude.
After the usual pleasantries, the girl asked where his scooter was and if he was OK.
To his acute embarrassment, he burst into tears.
A dam had burst and the frustrations, pain, grief of parental loss from years ago and all other kinds of emotions just overwhelmed him to such an extent that he wanted to die.
She took complete charge, sending her partner off to purchase whatever it was they’d come out for, and she stayed with him, holding him close and telling him everything would be OK, he wasn’t alone, and they’d get him home.

As she comforted him, she kept the conversation light throwing in questions about his medication, did he need her to call a doctor, was he in more pain than normal, etc etc.
A complete stranger stopped and asked if they could help.
She smiled and thanked them for stopping, but everything was OK.
And suddenly everything was.

When her partner returned, she got behind his chair and started to push, keeping up the chatter and light banter, teasing him and making him laugh.
Pushing, strolling, chatting.
The rhythm was the same, but he could feel himself relax, and his spirits lifted.
It took just half an hour to get to his house. Her partner went on home, but she pushed him right to his door, inside, and helped him into his chair. She made sure he had what he needed, and checked again if there was anything else she could do or anyone she could call.
His wife was concerned and fussing, grateful and surprised that the girl had pushed him all that way, even though it was out of her way.
She said she didn’t mind, and with a cheery wave, was gone.

He realised as she closed the door behind her that he still didn’t know her name.

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About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too. On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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1 Response to The Good Samaritan

  1. colinandray says:

    A lovely story. In a world that has become so self centred, it is nice to know that there still are “good Samaritans” out there. 🙂

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