This is a story about a time that Kit and I helped a supposed person in need. I am telling the story because of how it ended, not to publicize that we did some sort of charity. I sincerely believe charitable acts should remain anonymous or private, and I can hardly stand it when people wave around the fact that they helped someone. In my mind, it is cancelled out at that point. And I believe it is fine to publicize this story because I never felt good about it anyway.
In mid-January 2011, we were concluding a visit with a dear friend who was here from out of town on business. She had stayed with us, but it was time to drop her off and say our goodbyes. Our ride home was a little dicey, as this was the winter where we had four consecutive snow days. On this particular afternoon, it was lightly sleeting and snowing, and ice was just beginning to stick to the windshield.
As we got close to home, we saw a girl who had to be in her late teens/early 20s, standing by herself on a sidewalk at the side of the road and shivering. I pulled up and asked if she was hungry, and she said that she was, so I drove up the street to a fast food restaurant, ordered a few assorted items, and brought them back to her.
When I rolled down the window and handed the bag to her, she began fumbling through the bag, seemingly searching for something. She looked up and asked, “No hot sauce?” The only reply I could come up with was, “Wow,” and I rolled up the window, began laughing in disbelief, and drove away.