Assistant to the Good Samaritan

This morning, I stopped to fill up the gas tank. I was on the way to my dad's house, and I was running late. There was a man in a wheelchair near the entrance to the parking lot. And, there was a woman with two large plastic bags of shoes and clothing next to him. She was pulling items out of the bags to give to him. I walked inside and bought a drink. As I finished my purchase, the woman was just walking into the store, and her eyes were brimming with tears. She looked so pained, that I actually asked her if I could help. She said, "I just can't get a shoe on his foot." So, I told her that I'd try to help.

His wheelchair was parked at the edge of the gas station parking lot. As I got closer, I noticed that he was smoking, and that his right leg was amputated at the knee. His left hand had almost no fingers, only stubs were left. Covered with blankets, he was hunched over, and his head didn't lift. I asked him if I could help. He said, "Don't put my sock on, but just put on the shoe." A bag of cold urine was dripping down his swollen left leg. It had dribbled all over the sock. There were scabs on his leg, and it looked so sore. I tried to put the shoe on his foot, but it wouldn't go in. Because of my discomfort, I kept up a steady banter with him. He said, "I have some weed, and I can share it with you for helping me." My nervous fingers gently loosened the shoelaces, and made them as slack as possible. While shoving his foot into the shoe, more urine ran down his leg, and covered both of my hands. But, his foot went into the shoe, and he was triumphant. There was a bit of money in my wallet, so I pulled it out, and gave it to him. He directed me to put it in his pocket. As I looked down, I noticed that his thin pants were full of shit, and that the urine bag was overfull.

Right about this time, the good samaritan came out of the gas station, with some food. She was still slightly tearful, and spoke to him gently. She had purchased the food that he had requested. This woman looked at me, and said, "Thank you for getting his shoe on, I couldn't make any of the shoes in my bag fit." She told me that she'd help him with anything else he needed. I felt like I'd been dismissed.

In the car, on the drive to my dad's house, I cried. Guilt. So much guilt for not helping more. This man had told me that he had nowhere to go. And, really, there was nowhere for him. Childhood memories of helping my grandpa to put a boot on his WWI damaged foot made me even sadder. This gentleman's injuries also marked him out as a veteran. And, now, it's raining hard, and he's still probably out there. But, the kindness that this woman showed was inspirational. When it feels like no one out there cares, it's not true. I wondered how many people she had donated clothing and shoes to, how many people she had made feel a little bit better.