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Welcome to story time with Theresa.  This has nothing to do with Rolfing or SourcePoint Therapy, or anything else work related.  It’s just a (true) story and I like it and I’m sharing it with you.

On a side note, I got to see some real, live Samaritans when I was in Palestine.  They were loud, but then again, they were teenagers, and teenagers tend to be loud.  Moving on.  Here’s the story:

I have a friend.  His name is Ryan.  For the past few weeks, he’s been traveling around the country, camping wherever he goes.   He’s out in the wilds, searching for answers, healing, and just being with himself in nature.  Yesterday, Ryan woke up and packed up his camp.  It was time to move on, he’d decided.  So Ryan got in his car, put the key in the ignition, and turned.  With no result.

Oops.  Apparently, Ryan had been using his car to charge his phone battery for several days, without actually turning the engine on.  And all that phone charging really took its toll on the car battery, to the point where it was dead.  Which, in itself, is not that big a deal.  Sure, November isn’t really peak season for camping, so there are no other people in the tent area of the campground.  Sure, the lodge nearby is all but shut down for the season, with only a few off-peak workers who won’t be arriving until 4pm.  But surely there would be someone around to give him a jump, right?
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Well, no, actually, there wasn’t.  After a walk around the campground, Ryan could not find a single person who could give him a jump.  Now, let me set the scene a bit.  Ryan hasn’t showered in a few days, and he’s been sitting near a campfire each night.  He doesn’t smell so awesome (sorry, Ryan).  He hasn’t shaved in over a week, and Ryan’s a man with some serious facial hair.  His clothes are not freshly pressed.  Ryan isn’t exactly the picture of approachability.

So, Ryan walks out to the road going by the campground and waits.  And waits.  Eventually, an older woman drives by and Ryan is able to flag her down.  He explains his predicament and asks if she might be able to help.  She replies, “I’m just a woman.  I don’t know anything.”  Which is sad and maddening, and a whole different story.  But the end result is that she is unable to help.

After some more waiting, Ryan is able to flag down another car.  This time the man driving is politely apologetic that he can’t help, but he simply doesn’t have jumper cables and what else can he do?  Finally, after nearly an hour on the road, a third vehicle comes by, this time a deputy sheriff’s truck.  The man who stops seems annoyed that Ryan has waved him over.  No, he doesn’t have jumper cables; no he can’t help.  And why are you bothering me, anyways?

So Ryan gives up on flagging people down and walks back to the campground.  He decides he’ll just have to make the several mile hike into town to try and buy some jumper cables.  Then, he will hike several miles back, try flagging down someone else, and proceed from there.  If nothing else, he can wait for the skeleton crew from the lodge to arrive at 4 and maybe get some help from one of them.

So, he packs up his backpack, turns to leave his car, and it promptly starts raining.  To put it mildly, Ryan is not having the best of days.  But there is nothing else to do but to walk towards town, so that’s what he does.  He walks the half mile to the main road, then starts the journey towards town, not really knowing how far away it is.  He’s given up on trying to flag people down, since he doesn’t have jumper cables and now plenty of cars are passing him as he trudges along in the rain, stepping over an inordinate amount of roadkill.  I don’t know why this detail is important to the story, but it’s there.  After he’s gone about a mile on this main road, a car drives past him.  Then the car slows, turns off the road into a parking lot, and the driver waves him over.

Inside is a young couple, maybe 19 or 20 years old, both covered in tattoos.  She has several facial piercings.  Both are smoking.  They ask if Ryan needs a ride somewhere.  He explains his situation.  And then, the most magical thing happens.  They tell him to hop in.  Soaking wet, smelly (sorry again, but it’s true), and ungroomed, he does.  They say they have a friend who has jumper cables they can probably use.  So they drive to the friend’s house.  He doesn’t have jumper cables.  So they drive to a gas station.  The gas station has no jumper cables.  Finally, they drive to an auto parts store, and Ryan is able to buy some jumper cables.  In the meantime, they’re all chatting and whatnot and Ryan learns that his two saviors are both on parole.  Also, the young man believes there’s a big government conspiracy to build concentration camps throughout the U.S. right now.  Even so, these ‘young punks’ are driving him all over the place, trying to help him.  Whatever Ryan asks for, they provide, without hesitation.  They drive him back to the campground and help him jump his car.  And they drive away.

Sheriff’s deputy can’t help.  Two kids on parole can and do.

Life’s full of surprises.

Thank you, to those angels for helping my friend out.  And thanks, to Ryan, for letting me share his story here.