This past winter, I was hit with the worst flu I’d had in years—perhaps my worst flu ever. I had all the symptoms, and I had them bad.
As with most people, I have to be pretty sick to miss a day of work. Two days would be extremely rare. Three days, unheard of.
So after two days of resting, eating soup and drinking plenty of hot water, I was determined to drag myself out of bed and go to the office.
But I didn’t get very far.
I live about two blocks from the subway, so walking there typically only takes five minutes. I almost made it. Just shy of the station, I was suddenly overcome with nausea. Oh no, I thought, pausing to lean against the side of the building. Not here. Not now.
But there was nothing I could do—I was about to lose my breakfast, right there, in public, with the morning commuter rush swarming around me.
As I heave-hoed, I was mortified. If this flu doesn’t kill me, surely the embarrassment will. Once upright again, I could feel the tears springing to my eyes.
A Voice in the Crowd
Pedestrians streamed passed me, seemingly unaware of my distress. Despite the crowd, I felt very alone.
I was gazing out at the street, unsure of my next move, when a voice called out to me. It was coming from a woman in a car that was turning left at the intersection.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
No, I was not.
I shrugged helplessly. I appreciated the gesture, but what could she do? She was going in the opposite direction. I half-heartedly waved her off.
I took several deep breaths and was trying to steady myself when a mother with two children stopped to speak with me. “Do you need help?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “I think I need to go to the doctor.”
“Do you want me to call you a taxi?” I nodded gratefully.
But just as the woman was taking out her phone, a car pulled up. It was the first woman! She had circled the block to come back and help me.
Pedestrians streamed passed me. Despite the crowd, I felt very alone.
She had a friend and a young child in the back seat, but the front seat was empty. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?” she offered. “I can take you to the hospital.”
“Really?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it. This woman doesn’t know me. Why would she want to help me?
I asked her if she could drive me to the doctor and gave her the address. It was about 15 minutes away. En route, I asked her where she was going. She said she was taking her daughter to daycare and then going to work.
This woman is going at least half an hour out of her way to help me, I realized. She’ll be late for work because of me. When she dropped me off at the clinic, I couldn’t thank her enough.
Role Reversal
Long after I recovered from the flu, that woman’s actions stayed with me. I couldn’t help but wonder: If the roles had been reversed, would I have stopped? Or would I have continued on, more concerned with being on time for work than helping a person in distress?
It reminded me of a story Jesus once told about a man who was badly beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. Several “good” religious people walked by him, but no one stopped to help. They all had excuses. Finally, a hated outcast came along. Instead of ignoring the injured man, the outcast stopped, took him to an inn and paid for him to be cared for. This story, of course, is commonly known as the Parable of the Good Samaritan (see Luke 10:25-37).
That morning, this Bible story became reality for me. I’m so grateful that the woman took time to assist me. She not only helped me get better, but also reminded me of what it means to love my neighbour.
