A story.

I wrote a story. A true story. About thankfulness. And heroes. And angels.

Prologue
As I stood in the hall at work talking with a friend, a coworker overheard me saying that I was driving 14 hours, through the night, to go home for Thanksgiving. “Oh my goodness, I sure don't envy you!” “Yeah, I don’t envy me either.”

Six hours in, starting to feel a bit sleepy. 20 minute catnap. 
Seven hours in, “I'm getting too old for this”. 20 minute catnap. 
Nine hours in, Fatigue. Hardcore. Setting in. 20 minute catnap. 
11 hours in… an unseen crate in the middle of the interstate.
A blown tire.

“AAA, How can I help you?” 
“I'm on I 85 S. I've been driving for 12 hours, I have three hours left to go, and I just blew out a tire. I'm exhausted and emotional, please help me.” 
“I am so sorry, ma’am! Since you're on the side of the interstate we're going to escalate your claim to emergency status. We will get somebody there as soon as possible. What's a good number to contact you back?”

It was 4:00 in the morning, but I called my mom and dad in spite. 
Sobbing uncontrollably, I said, “I'm so sorry to wake you up, but I have no idea when I'm going to be home. I just blew out a tire on the interstate!”

Blue lights. 

Through my blurry and makeup stained eyes I see them behind me. 

“Ma'am, did you hit that crate back there? I hit it too, and you’re the third call we’ve had because of that crate.”

More blue lights.

“Well hey there! Did you hit the crate?”

Again, blue lights.

“The crate? Alright ma’am, let's get that spare out and change that tire.”

One more set of blue lights.

Seriously? I could cry again. I laugh instead.

Trunk unloaded on the side of the interstate, spare tire out, jack out, five police officers change my tire.

“I cannot begin to tell you how thankful I am for you guys. I'm exhausted, I was scared, I was frustrated, the semi trucks are flying by and then you all just showed up. You just descended like angels to rescue me. You are literally on your hands and knees changing my tire, and standing in a semi circle around to protect me. I am truly overwhelmed with gratefulness for you five.”

*Counting Crows begin to sing "Long December" from my pocket*

“Ma’am, this is AAA calling. I wanted to let you know that I am still trying to dispatch someone to you. Because of the hour, I am having a bit of a struggle finding a driver.” 

AAA canceled. Because of my heroes. 

“Ok, so I am going to drive you, pace car, to the first exit and fill up your tires with air. Follow me, ma’am.” 

One exit later… Air hose. Four tires.  Officers. Hugs. Thank you’s. Goodbye waves.

Epilogue
Roughly 16.5 hours after I drove away from home in Richmond, Va., as the burning oranges and pinks on the horizon faded into the soft yellow glows of a brand new day, I pulled into the driveway of my parents home in Pensacola, Fl. Approximately fifteen minutes later, after hugging and sharing, “Hallelujah! You’re safe! You’re home!” exchanges with my groggy and pajama clad mom and dad, I curled up under the covers in my childhood bed. As I lay there warm and snug, and very quickly falling asleep, I replayed the events from three hours previous. I leave you with these thoughts that accompanied the movie reel in my mind…

We live in a sometimes very mean world. A sometimes very hateful world. A sometimes very evil world. A world that is big, and scary, and changing. We are peppered everyday with images, soundbites, and clips of violence, hatred, and disdain for fellow man. But then… 

Sometimes…

…on a cold November morning, before the sun even rises, you meet heroes from the Montgomery, AL. Police Dept. that change your tire, make you laugh, calm your nerves, and protect you from harm. 

…Sometimes, on a cold November morning, before the sun even rises, you meet angels from heaven that give you a glimpse of what it means to be thankful. You get a glimpse of kindness. A glimpse of caring. A glimpse of the gracious and the beautiful and the good that fills the gaps, cracks, and tears in this big, scary, and changing world. 

Happy Thanksgiving. Go hug your people. 

*A HUGE Thanksgiving “Thank you!” to Cpl. M Kidd, OFC D. Smith, OFC S. Baldwin, OFC M. Westbrook, and OFC D. Webster… my Thanksgiving heroes.*