A Ride Home

Imagine you are a nine-year old kid who just wrecked his bike, hitting the concrete hard. You have two large gashes in your ankle, which you can see through the huge hole in your sock. Additionally, your elbow hurts. Your leg hurts. Your side hurts. You are lying in the street, trying not to cry and you can’t get up. A nice man wearing scrubs happens to see you fall and gets out of his vehicle to help you. The man tells you that he works at a hospital and takes a look at your injuries. He reassures you that you will be okay and offers you a ride home. Although you have a cell phone in your backpack, you feel it will be okay to get into the car with this nice man, even though you do not know him. The man puts your bike in the back of his vehicle and drives you home. He asks to speak to your grandma so he can tell her what happened. He is truly a nice man. After your ankle is properly cleaned and bandaged, your grandma reminds you of the reason you are allowed to carry a cell phone to school. You think you are in trouble because you are not supposed to get into a car with strangers. “He works in a hospital and he was really nice and he just put my bike in the car and I thought it would be okay because I was hurt.” Your grandma reassures you that you are not in trouble and that she understands why you got in the car; however, she explains that it would have been a better choice to call home for help. Your mother echoes the same advice. And now you are bummed because you left your bike helmet in his car and you don’t know where he lives. At least your sore ankle allowed you to sit out of PE the next day.

Picture yourself a grandmother or a mother (some of you are). You are very grateful for the aid rendered to your grandson or son by a kind person. At the same time, you are concerned that the child got into a stranger’s vehicle. You are relieved he is okay, in more ways than one. You try not to wrinkle your face as you clean up the blood and gently bandage the injury. You use this opportunity to show how much you care about your only grandson by not throwing up. Instead, you smile, you hug, and you reassure him that all is well. And it is.