Several
years ago we were visiting my in-laws in Lubbock, Texas. It is so refreshing to
change the scenery, and I do love my family in Texas.
One Saturday
morning I went out for a walk with one of the girls. We were just coming around
a corner when there was a house with a large garage sale. Clothing, shoes etc.
were spread in the front yard and my daughter and I stopped to browse. She
immediately found many wonderful things to buy, but I did not have my purse,
since I had just gone for a walk.
We decided
to go back home to get some money and come back, since the seller said they
would be open till five in the afternoon.
When we got
back, it was time for the children to go see their cousin play baseball. The
girls decided to return to the garage sale after they get back.
As soon as
the car pulled up the driveway after the match, two of the girls ran to get
their purses and dashed off in a hurry. I let them go, since that was the plan
and the garage sale was not far.
After more
than two hours the girls returned, one crying bitterly, the other one extremely
upset. When they reached me in the bedroom where I was folding up clothes, they
began telling me what happened.
They had
left in a hurry, not asking for directions, because one of them knew where the
garage sale was. They had walked and walked, but had not found it. The day was
very hot, they had nothing to drink and they were exhausted. They tried to
return home, but did not know how to get home either. Not knowing what to do,
they decided to ask for directions of the only person they saw outside in the
midday sun. It was a man who was in his front lawn with a pet rabbit.
The girls
knew grandma's address and asked if the man could give them directions. He
tried to do so, and the girls started walking away, but they heard him call
after them. He said he had two bikes they could borrow to get home quicker. He
pulled out of his garage two fairly new bikes, a pink and a grey one, and gave
them to the girl. They asked him how will they be able to return the bikes and
he said they can have somebody drive them back.
The girls
had bicycled a long while and still not found their way home so they went into
a church to get help. A kind pastor printed out directions on his computer. So
they set off again, tired, thirsty and hot, and now also arguing about which
way to take.
Finally,
they found home. With two bikes from a helpful stranger.
After
having had drinks and a bite to eat they tried to tell us everything they knew
about the house where they got the bikes. I decided to start walking with the
girls and the bikes in the neighborhood to see if we could find the house.
After two hours of terrible heat, we returned. We found nothing.
Now their
dad and the girls drove around by car looking for the place. When we asked
distinctive landmarks they remember from their trip, they said that there was a
white car parked across the street from the house where they got the bikes. Not
quite the landmark we were hoping for.
We did not
find the house, and the bikes remained in grandma's garage. All we could do was
to write a letter to the editor of the local newspaper, thanking the man for
his kindness and urging him to contact the paper to get in touch with us.
He read our
note in the paper and called my husband, who returned the bikes. When he was
asked if he did not wonder why he did not get the bikes back right away he said
that he was sure the girls needed to use them during their visit to Lubbock.