During a recent busy day, I found myself feeling rushed after losing track of time. I would be late for a meeting and I still had things to check off my list before pursuing the meet up. As I drove, I talked myself into taking in the plush cotton fields as I drove by them. While the rest of the world is feeling the freezing breezes of winter air, Arizona cotton is blooming. The sun still shines, like its a summer season, and the skies are just as blue.
I eventually stop my car at a car wash to vacuum it. I approached the "change machine" to get tokens and shoved the rest of the money in my pocket. I knew I was still running late, AND I knew that I was freezing as I stood there outside, but I still persuaded myself to vacuum the car. I pulled up to the machine, got out, put the coin in the slot, I could hear the journey of the token as it made its way through it, when I hear the final tink the loud humming of the vacuum took over my thoughts and I was energized to do this particular task in haste.
I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. I had been to this car wash a thousand times, and my train of thought wasn't concentrated on anything in particular. Lift up the floor mat. Look out the window. Vacuum. 'Hey, there's a guy riding a bike.' Put floor mat down. Vacuum drivers seat. Hit head on rear view mirror. *Curse* 'Mr. Bike man looks cold even though he's wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and a beanie.' Vacuum back seat. Floor. I get out of the car and walk to the passenger side. 'There's the man still. He's digging in the trash. What's he looking for?' I watched him take things out of the trash, picking out cans. I begin to vacuum the passenger side of the car. When I was finally done with the interior I took a look at him again. He was putting things in a small basket attached to his bike.
I ran the nuzzle across the carpet one last time, and when I looked up the man caught my eye. "I'll take any cans, if you have them." He spoke soft, and undoubtedly genuine. "I don't have any, sorry." The man thanked me and proceeded to sift through the another trash can. I closed the doors of my car. While I reached up and around to hang the vacuum extension back in its place, a token fell off the top.
As I picked it up, I realized that someone had probably left it there, for another person to find and use. Immediately I thought of the three dollars I had in my pocket and the man looking through the trash. What was three dollars to me? I'm by no means well-off, but could I spare the few bucks. What could I buy with three dollars? A gallon of gas? I just filled up the tank. A small french fry at Mickey D's? Nope, not hungry. I quickly realized nothing that I could buy with three dollars would mean as much to me, as it might to him.
I waited for a minute, rubbing the rough paper with my fingers. When he approached the trash can next to my car, I got in and started it. He smiled a farewell smile and a neighborly nod. Neighbors we were, not in our eyes, but in God's. I knew what I needed to do. One hand turned off my radio as the other rolled my window down. When his eyes met mine once again, I extended my hand and the few dollars, hoping it was enough to make him smile. A surprised expression came over his face. His thanks were profuse and overflowing true grace. I left him standing there smiling, after I wished him "Happy Holidays". I never made it to my meeting. But I was OK with that.
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