Whoever you are — I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.
—Blanche DuBois, “A Streetcar Named Desire”
Ensemble:
You can always depend on the kindness of strangers
To pluck up your spirits and shield you from dangers.
Marge:
Now, here's a tip from Blanche you won't regret.
Ensemble:
A stranger's just a friend you haven't met!
—Marge Simpson and “Oh! Streetcar” cast, “A Streetcar Named Marge” from Season 4 of “The Simpsons”
I can’t say that I’ve ever been in Blanche DuBois’ shoes. Whenever I’ve needed help, there have always been family members or close friends to give me a hand. This week marked the first time that I’ve ever experienced the “kindness of strangers,” and I found out what that means in a huge way.
After a crazy, busy election season, I planned for a couple of days in the North Georgia mountains. I wanted to drive up to the Jacks River Fields Campground, where we spent a lot of time when I was younger, as well as some of the surrounding areas in the national forest. My family also wanted me to spread some of my dad’s ashes up there since it was the area where he grew up.
By the way, I didn’t camp up there. I booked a motel room for Monday night in my dad’s hometown of Blue Ridge, Ga., because it’s December, and camping for one is a massive pain.
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I got up to Jacks River Fields just in time to eat lunch. It was 37 degrees outside, but in the sun, it was pleasant enough for me to enjoy a picnic of a leftover turkey sandwich, chips, and chocolate pie that was also a Thanksgiving leftover. I walked around these sites that mean so much to me, took a few pictures, and spread some of my dad’s ashes. I wanted to spread some of the ashes at another camping area where we took groups from our church, but I saw a truck there and decided not to.
After hiking for a while, I walked back to my car, which I had locked. I couldn’t unlock it with the fob or with my thumbprint. I took the physical key out of the fob and unlocked the driver’s side door. Then I pressed the ignition button and realized what was going on: my car was dead.
The predicted low for the night was 21. I had no cellphone signal to call anybody or even research how to troubleshoot any other potential problems. So the first thing I did was pray, “Lord, I need a miracle.” That miracle didn’t come in repeated attempts to start the car.
I thought about the truck I saw at the other camping area, so I decided to take a chance and see if anyone could or would help me. There was one man there who had set up an impressive tent and had a fire going. I asked for his help, and he dug through his truck and couldn’t find jumper cables.
Then he said, “I’m heading down the mountain, and I can take you wherever in town you need to go.” I thanked him, and we packed up my stuff and headed down the mountain. As we drove, my new friend Derek and I listened to an Alistair Begg sermon on the radio. He said that as soon as we got where we had signal, he would call a towing company and a mechanic, both of whom he knew personally.
Alec from the towing company said he could get my car to the mechanic, although it would be later in the evening. Derek took me to the mechanic to give him my key fob, and then he dropped me off at the motel. I checked in, and Cindi at the motel office was sympathetic and kind, and the motel was nice and warm.
Side note: Burt Reynolds stayed at this same motel when he was filming “Deliverance.” Thankfully, the motel has been recently renovated and is much nicer than it was in the ‘70s.
Alec called me to let me know that he dropped my car off at the mechanic’s right before they closed for the night. They were ready to check out my car first thing in the morning. I gave Alec my credit card number, and the charge for the towing was much less than I expected. I ordered pizza and settled down for the night.
The next morning, I woke up early enough to take part in our church’s morning prayer Zoom call and went down for breakfast. Cindi and another staff member were tending to the breakfast food, and another guest was eating. I told them about my predicament, and the guest told me that if I needed to run to the store, she would take me. She even suggested taking me with her to ride horses if I had to stay through Wednesday.
Around 10, I called Chris, the mechanic, and he mentioned that the issue was definitely a dead battery. Chris told me he would call me back soon with an ETA for repairs. About 15 minutes later, he called me with good news and bad news; the good news was that they were able to charge my battery, but the bad news was that they couldn’t find a battery anywhere close enough to pick it up that day.
With the charge on the battery, I would be able to get to a dealership or mechanic closer to home to have a new battery installed — as long as I didn’t shut the car off. I found a Ford dealership about 30 minutes from home that had a battery in stock. Now all I needed to do was find a ride to the mechanic.
Uber and Lyft weren’t options, and Blue Ridge doesn’t even have a taxi service. I called another car service, and the owner said he would see if he had a driver available who could get me to the mechanic. I didn’t hold out much hope.
I thought about the other guest who said she would take me wherever I needed to go. Cindi called her, but she didn’t answer. I walked to her room to knock on the door and saw the Do Not Disturb sign on it. I went back to the office, and Cindi said that she always had that sign on her door and that I should knock anyway. She had been taking a nap, but she said that if I would let her sleep until 1:00, she would take me then.
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Fortunately, the driver from the car service called me back and said that he could pick me up in about 30 minutes. He took me to the mechanic, where Chris said that he wouldn’t charge me for testing and charging my battery. I was on the road just before noon.
Two and a half hours later, I made it to the dealership. Randall, the technician, checked me in, and I grabbed a Coke in the waiting area. The dealership was unabashedly Christian; a “Jesus Is the Reason for the Season” sign decorated the area where the drink machines were, and the tables had devotions on them. The family atmosphere between employees and with customers let me know that God had led me to the right place.
A couple of hours later, my car was ready, and the fee was less than I expected. Again, it was another sign of kindness and incredible customer service. Randall discovered a recall on my car and said that someone from the dealership would call me to schedule a time to bring it back. Instead, I got a call that a technician would come to my house later in the week to fix the recall issue!
After I got home, I realized that I used a certain word in most of my interactions on this trip. “Thank you for your kindness.” “You’re so kind.” “That was kind of you.” I’ll never forget the kindness that so many people showed me when I felt stranded and helpless. So many of these people were strangers, but they’ll long hold a special place in my heart (and in the case of the dealership, I think I’ll be a customer for life).
Kindness is a fruit of the spirit, and it’s a quality of love according to the Bible. The Apostle Paul wrote in Ephesians 4:32, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” May we find ways to show kindness to each other not just during a busy Christmas season but throughout the year.
If you've read this far, thank you! Your support allows me to do what I do — and by that, I mean that it not only gives me a job that gives me vacation time and pays me enough to repair my car, but it also affords me the opportunity to share my experiences and what's on my heart. I'm grateful.
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