I had the strangest experience tonight. If I told either of my parents about it, they would lecture me. So, I thought I would tell the two of you. Perhaps you will understand.

I worked until almost 7 tonight, and when I came home I went over to my mailbox. A man started across the street, and stopped in pain. He’s doubled over and says his back just gave out on him. I ask if there is anything I can do. He asks if I can give him a ride over to the bus stop. I go back into my apartment, get my car keys and he gets into my car. I ask again where he wants to go and he says he needs to get to a hospital. I offer to drive him, and he says that his insurance only covers a hospital in Long Beach. He asks if I can drive him to a bus stop, and I tell him that I’ll drive him to Long Beach.

My offer surprises him. He seems to be in a lot of pain, but he is also behaving like he is on something. He seems disoriented. I’ve spent a lot of hours working on a drug/suicide hot line before, so I have some experience in talking with disoriented people. At first I considered alcohol, but his reaction times are pretty quick. Anyway, off we go.

He’s holding two cans of soup, and he keeps drinking from a water bottle. We talk as we drive. He keeps moaning, and he keeps telling me that I am very kind. He tells me that he divorced a couple years ago and took a lady out to dinner tonight. He says that as he pulled out his wallet to pay for dinner she grabbed it and took off running. He started after her, but that’s when his back gave out.

We talk for a while longer. I ask how he plans to get into the hospital if he doesn’t have a wallet? He decides that we should go to his uncle’s house and his uncle will take him to the hospital. He comments that it is very unusual to meet someone who will go to all this trouble and keeps telling me that I am very kind.

I tell him that tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, and besides, I used to drive to RSM on Tuesday’s for choir rehearsal. He mentions that he used to own the Coco’s restaurant in RSM and he and his partner turned their restaurants into Ruby’s dinners. He says he’ll give me some free coupons for Ruby’s to pay for my gas. I tell him that he doesn’t need to. Besides, somehow I don’t quite believe him.

He moans some more and starts slapping his legs fairly regularly. He tells me that I am very kind and I remind him that even in his pain God is there with him. He says he’ll tell them not to hurt me. I say that I didn’t understand what he said, and he says never mind.

We get off the 405 on Alameda and drive towards PCH. There is construction so he guides me around through a detour. He asks if I have four quarters so he can call his family and tell them he is ok. I say sure, but think it is strange that he needs quarters if he is going to his uncle’s house. I thought about loaning him my cell phone, but decided that I’d rather not tell him about it right now. Any way, we drive along and then he tells me to stop and pull over. He asks again about the quarters, and I open my ash tray and pull some out for him. He gets out, walks over to a gate and bangs on it. I get out of my car and stand on the sidewalk. A 40ish black man opens the door, comes out and looks me over, and then helps Mike in through the gate.

I stand there, on the sidewalk in Long Beach.

There is a liquor store at one end of the block and a wood working shop a couple doors up the other way. Other than that, it is pretty deserted. A few homeless people walk by and I say hello to each of them. A young lady walks over and asks if I am waiting to meet someone. I explain that I’m just waiting to see if Mike wants me to take him to the hospital. So she walks back to the liquor store. She seems to be waiting for someone herself.

After a while I go back and knock on the gate. The man inside talks through the gate, but I tell him that I cannot hear him. He opens the gate and looks around. Then he tells me to go back and wait in my car. I ask him how much longer Mike is going to be there. He says he’ll find out.

A few minutes later he comes out with one hand stuffed way down into his pants pocket and the other hand swinging free. He walks over to my car and try’s the door. I show him my remote and explain that the door doesn’t open (well not when it’s locked anyway.) He try’s my back door, but it is also locked. He’s still got one hand deep inside his pants pocket. So I get out of the car, the alarms goes off, and I silence it. He says “the guy says he’s going to stay here.” Ok, too bad his uncle doesn’t know his nephew’s name. And it is odd that the nephew is 10 years older than his uncle. And it is odd that the nephew is so very New York native white while the uncle is so very much Long Beach black.

I ask if he would like to take the groceries in to Mike. He says sure. So I reach in, pull them together and hand them to him. He starts back to the gate and I drive away.

Several thoughts crossed my mind along the way, but all through it I had the strangest feeling that if I was showing kindness to someone in God’s name, then all would be well. And all was well.

I don’t think I’ll give Mike any more rides. But, I’ll probably do the same the next time someone else asks. After all, Wednesday is Ash Wednesday and I’m glad that I have an occasional opportunity to pass along a tiny bit of the great kindness that He has shown to me.