Bryan Anderson {Insp}

"Bryan Anderson"

He almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side
of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could
see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her
Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering
when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No
one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was
he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked
poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there
in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which
only fear can put in you.

He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you
wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name
is Bryan Anderson."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that
was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking
for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time
or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had
to get dirty and his hands hurt.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down
the window and began to talk to him. She told him that
she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through.
She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked
how much she owed him. Any amount would have been
all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things
that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan
never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job
to him. This was helping someone in need, and G~d knows
there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He
had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to
him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the
next time she saw someone who needed help, she could
give that person t he assistance they needed, and Bryan
added, "And think of me."

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had
been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he
headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She
went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she
made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking
restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole
scene was unfamiliar to her.

The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe
her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being
on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed
the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she
never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old
lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so
giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred
dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her
hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out
the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back.
The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she
noticed something written on the napkin.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady
wrote: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too.
Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you.
If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do
not let this chain of love end with you."

Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and
people to serve, but the waitress made it through another
day. That night when she got home from work and climbed
into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the
lady had written. How could the lady have known how much
she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next
month, it was going to be hard....

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he
lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and
whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all
right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."
Received on Sun Jan 28 07:51:01 2007