Try a Little Kindness

I spent a great part of my life in the 1950’s in a little country store.  It was my home the first three years of my life. In that store on Brady’s stretch I learned many wonderful lessons about this world and about people. One of the earliest lessons that I remember occurred in late summer of 1954 when I was five years old. The day was extremely hot. My mom, dad, little baby brother and I had just finished eating lunch when we heard a horrific noise. We ran outside to see what it was, and in the distance we could see an old black flatbed truck making it's way slowly up the road from the north. As it got closer we could see that the noise was coming from the wheel on the left front side of the truck. The driver had a flat and had driven until the tire was completely worn away. The rim was grinding against the rocks and pavement of the road.

When the truck finally pulled into our parking lot I noticed immediately that the occupants were unlike anyone I had ever seen. In the back of the truck was a litttle girl and a boy each holding onto crude racks on the bed of the truck. There was also what probably were the few belongings that this family owned. In the truck's cab was a man, a woman and a tiny baby about the age of my baby brother. It was obvious to me that these people were not from Logan County or even Kentucky. The man got out of the truck, walked over to my dad and began talking to him. He had a very heavy accent, but somehow my dad was able to understand what he was saying.

The two of them walked around toward the back of the store and began looking through some old discarded tires. The children in the back of the truck climbed down and walked over to where I was standing. I was drinking one of those small Coca Colas. Their mother got out of the truck and walked inside the store with my mother. The little girl looked to be about my age and was wearing a little, dingy white dress. Her hair was jet black and very long. She had the darkest eyes I had ever seen. I think she was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. Her brother was wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt. Neither of them were wearing shoes. I didn't have any shoes on either, and all I was wearing was a pair of shorts. As far as I could tell the only real difference between them and me was that I had a coke, and they didn't. I could tell they wanted a coke even though we had not spoken  a word. We just stood and looked at each other. The little girl turned and ran over to her dad who had returned to the truck and was busy removing the wheel . I did not understand what she said, but I think she was asking him if she and her brother could get a coke. Whatever she said did not please her father. She ran back and stood by her brother. I could tell she was disappointed.

I can't explain why, but I felt disappointed and sad for my new friends.  For some reason at that moment it was clear to me that these children needed a coke more than anything, and I knew what I had to do. I went inside the store to the cash register, stretched on my tip toes, and felt around until I found what I thought was a dime. There was always some change lying around on top of the cash register. I didn't understand much about money at the time, but I did know that one dime would be enough to buy two cokes. I took the dime, walked out to where the two children were still standing and held the dime so they could see it. We still did not say a word. I laid the dime down on the ground and walked back inside the store. I watched out the window to see what they would do. Finally, the little girl picked up the dime and ran over to her father. She said something to him, and he nodded his head. I was so happy when I saw my new friends with big smiles on their faces as they drank their Coca Colas. All was right with the world.

My mom had made some sandwiches for our guests. An old used tire that would fit had been found and put on the wheel. After the sandwiches had been eaten the family loaded up and continued their journey south. My dad said they were gypsies. They were on their way to the south end of the county near the Tennessee line where it was about time to harvest dark fired tobacco. The children's dad was hoping to find three or four weeks of work on the large tobacco farms.

Kindness was the lesson I learned that day. My mom and dad were so kind to these strange people. They were poor people trying to survive. My dad didn't charge the man anything for the tire or the tire tube that they needed. My mom was very nice to the lady and to her family by preparing the sandwiches for them. The little girl and I never spoke a word to each other, but we communicated just the same. I only knew her for a couple of hours. We waved at each other as the truck rolled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Her big bright smile made me feel good. Yes, all was right with the world.

Hebrews 13:2 Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.