Sunday, January 29, 2012

"Stories on the Sabbath"

                                                     The Extra Mile!

I couldn't help but notice the man standing on the side of the road.  He was alone and was walking in the same direction that I was driving.  I wondered why he would be walking out in the middle of no where.  Then, instantly, I realized that the car I had seen just moments before must have been his.
It had been a nice vacation.  I was preparing to return to my home in Colorado after visiting my sisters in Southern Idaho.  I grew up in Oakley, near Burley and had thoroughly enjoyed coming back and visiting with all of my dear friends and family.  The familiar aroma of the farming communities had also been a welcome reminder of days gone by. 
On the way out of town I stopped by to talk to my nieces ex-husband who owned a car repair garage.  As we were visiting, I noticed a French Peugeot Diesel of the same model and make as the one I was driving.  I commented that it was very unusual to see that type of car in a non-metropolitan area, especially the fact that there were not very many in the United States period.  He told me that the owner was parting-it-out and had left it there during the process.  I said my goodbys and departed for Colorado, a long days drive ahead. 
I had been on the way for a short time when I noticed a car parked on the side of the road.  Then a short distance ahead I saw a man standing, then realized that he must have been the driver.  The car ahead of me pulled over and stopped, then drove on.  I thought this man's problems were in the process of being solved, so I drove on past him.  The car behind me also pulled over, stopped and then continued on. 
             Only a few minutes had gone by and for some reason I felt impressed to turn around and go back and help this man.  I could think of no rational reason to do so, other than the fact that the man must not have received the help he needed.  The feeling became more intense as I approached an upcoming exit ramp with an overpass.  I took the exit, crossed over and then re-entered the freeway, heading back towards the man as prompted.
As I drove past on the opposite side of the highway, I saw the man still standing where he had been a few minutes before.  I continued on until I found a place to cross over, and then headed back the opposite direction to where he had been standing.  As I approached the location, neither the man nor the car were anywhere in sight.
Rhetorically I asked, "Was that trip necessary?" and then chided myself for wasting the extra miles.  I proceeded on my journey, reflecting on the strong prompting I had felt to return to where the man had been, only to find him gone.  It didn't make any sense to me.
As I drove on, I gradually put the incident out of my mind, not quite knowing what to make of the experience.  Approximately fifty miles further down the freeway, a red light suddenly appeared on my dashboard, indicating low oil pressure.  This happened just as I was approaching an exit for a private ranch house.  I exited the freeway and coasted up the lane towards the ranch, which was not far from the road. 
           I coasted to a stop, got out, opened the hood and found a ruptured engine oil pressure line which had drained most of the engine oil.  As I walked toward the house, I saw a man feeding cattle.  I approached him, told him of my problem and asked if he had a phone I could use.  He said that he did and if I could wait a few minutes until he finished feeding the animals, he would take me to the house where I could use the phone.  I didn't have any place I could go, so I was happy to wait.
During our conversation, I learned that he was a member of the Bishopric in the nearby town.  When he was finished feeding the cattle, we went to his house.  He introduced me to his wife and showed me where the phone was.  I made a call to my sister in Burley and explained to her what happened to the oil line in my car.  I had remembered the Peugeot at Mike's garage.  I asked her if she would inquire about buying the oil line from Mike and send it and some oil to me.  She said she would take care of getting the things I needed and have them delivered to me.  I thanked her and hung up the phone.
I was invited to have dinner with this family.  I gratefully accepted their invitation and shared in their delicious meal and company while waiting for the parts to arrive.  I told them that I was very lucky that the failure occurred where it did. 
Sometime later my nephew arrived with the part and the oil.  We replaced the broken part and I put the oil in.  I thanked my nephew for his trouble, thanked the family for their hospitality and bade them all farewell.  I resumed my journey toward Colorado several hours behind schedule, but thankful for the blessings my family and that gracious couple had provided me.
As I drove through a desolate area, 12 to 15 miles from the ranch, the full impact of that experience suddenly dawned on me.  Had I not heeded the promptings of the Spirit and gone those extra 12-15 miles, I would have been in the middle of that desolate area when the oil line broke.  I would have been totally without help and my problems would have been greatly magnified!  That trip was REALLY necessary!
           "When you begin to make service to meet other's needs your constant practice," Harold B. Lee said, "you are beginning a program that will make you successful in your chosen field and your own needs will begin automatically to take care of themselves."
Because I followed a prompting, which I thought was for the benefit of the man on the side of the road, I received a great blessing for me instead...I have often wondered who that man was. 
Since then I have contemplated the far reaching effect that service plays in the life of the giver.  When we lose ourselves in unselfish service to others, we forget for a moment our own wants and needs and put others first.  Even though I didn't get to help this man, the righteous intent of my heart was noted and knowing I would be in need, the Lord took care of my problems.  As a child I often heard the phrase, "Go the extra mile."  Not until now, have I realized the impact it can have.

--Robert C. Nelson, retired Fighter Pilot (Out of Small Things)

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