Life in the Slow Lane

Philip, my 17 year old son, was backing out of his usual parking place in front of the house this morning, on his way to seminary, and side-swiped his granny's car. So... that set me mood of the day. Poor kid. He always leaves around 5:30 A.M. from the same place and pulls out in the same direction. He had forgotten that Granny was here overnight. So... first fender-bender. Could have been worse, right? It's not like he was speeding down the freeway and barreled into somebody. He was following his routine and was on his way to do something good; to learn the Scriptures. He wasn't out and up to no good. Accidents happen.

I had to tell Philip that, when his dad was 17, he wrecked his car near a swimming hole we called 'Sequin Bridge' because he had been trying to fish-tail in the gravel. Daniel/Dad did manage to get the car swinging back and forth for a moment before he hit pavement sans gravel. Then the tires took hold and he ran right into the bridge's cement railing and totaled his car...the car he had only recently paid for in full... with money he earned himself. Daniel (hubby/dad) was pretty irritated about Philip hitting Granny's car until he remembered that little incident himself. (He was probably a little more irritated at first than he might have been if it hadn't rained for the first time in months all over the sleeping bags and camping equipment he had exposed in the flat bed trailer in our driveway overnight. I had to secretly giggle. I mean, come on, the weather man did say there would finally be rain.)

Philip left his keys here at home and asked me to drive him to school today. Of course, I did it without question. He was upset. He felt really bad about Granny's car. While we were on the way, we saw a young Hispanic male walking along the roadside toward the middle school. I told Philip I felt bad for the poor kid who was already late and obviously had nobody at home to drive him, or worse maybe, nobody who WOULD drive him. Philip said that kid didn't care. He told me that kid was taking his time and wasn't worried about getting to school.

I told Philip the story of sour grapes (I was surprised he hadn't already known that one). I explained that the kid probably felt let down on so many levels and that one person reaching out to help him might make a difference in his life.

That kid probably DID want to get to school and DID care that he was late. He might think he couldn't have what other kids had, and maybe he told himself he didn't really want it anyway...but he was lying to himself. Maybe he told himself that what other people had wasn't all that great.

Philip and I shared a spiritual moment together as we likened the possible circumstance of that young stranger to peoples described in the Book of Mormon and how is was only because of the unrighteous traditions of the parents and grandparents that so many of the rising generation when astray.

I was determined to go pick up that young man and drive him to school. I had a thought that maybe I could make a difference in his life on some small level. Maybe he wouldn't be afraid to care if a stranger cared that he got to school.

After I dropped off Philip, I went back to look for the young man. I drove all the way across town to almost reach the middle school when I finally realized someone had already picked him up and he was most likely at school already. I was glad.

As I crossed the freeway to come home, I saw that same young man coming from the convenience store on the way. He had a big soda or something in his hand and was sipping away as he strolled leisurely in the direction he had been before.

I did not turn around to pick him up. I guess he got to school and hour or so late. I don't guess it made much of a difference to him... or anyone else, for that matter.