Yesterday I read a really good post written by Diane, I loved the title of her post.
"Everyday Kindness: I am the Village"
While I read her post a lot of thoughts ran through my head. I thought about how thankful I am that I grew up in a community where people really cared about each other. Sure, there were naughty kids that everybody got tired of...but there were also a lot of second and third chances granted. I thought about the last few weeks, and the rescue dogs that have come to visit, and then gone on to other caring homes. I've been joking for weeks that "it takes a village to raise a puppy".
Last night my "village" theory was put to the test, again. We had gone to bed late, it was midnight, The Husband was barely asleep and I was reading but ready to turn off the light. I heard a womans voice, mind you....we live in a place where you don't hear voices from neighbors. I heard her say "yeah, there is a light on upstairs". Then I heard pounding on my front door and the puppy downstairs barking and growling for all she was worth. I went down and put a leash on my little guardian, she's only been here three days and I didn't know how she would treat unknown strangers standing at the door at midnight. I opened the door to a young couple and the first thing that hit me was a blast of alcohol. The young lady looked okay, she had the look of somebody who's been partying for several hours. The young man looked scary. He had long scraggly hair, gangster jeans hanging off his skinny frame, a backwards ball cap...I was immediately wary. They had a flat tire and their jack didn't work, they wanted to know if we had a jack they could borrow. I said "honey???" The Husband grabbed a coat and went to the tool shed to get a jack . I held the dog back and acted like she might bite them, while puppy licked their fingers. I didn't have a chance to tell my hubby of my concerns for his safety, nice guy that he is. Before I could express my concerns to him he was walking down the driveway with the young couple, jack in hand...into the darkness and down the road. I was a wreck. I sat in the dining room, in the dark...alone and worried. My husband was on a dark country road helping a stranger change a flat tire. I've watched too many scary movies, and I have a very active imagination. While I was proud that my husband was helping a stranger, I was also thinking about all of the dreadful things that could happen. I won't tell you about my rediculous thought process, but I did think about my martial arts training so many moons ago. If they were thugs and they konked my husband on the head and came back to the house to rob us blind (hey...that $200.00 TV and $99.00 CD player? worth at least 20 bucks in a pawn shop!)...should I hit them with a lamp or should I summon my karate skills and chop-chop my way to safety, or maybe I should just hide in the attic with my cel phone whispering to the 911 operator.
Cut to end of story.
The Husband came back to the house safe and sound. While he was washing his hands, grinning... he told me that they were just the nicest kids, although he said he could cop a buzz from the booze fumes. He was smiling and feeling all happy about doing a good deed. He told me that the young man was profusely thanking him for helping out, asking what he could do to repay him. The Husband just told them that the next time they see someone alongside the road who needs help he'd like them to stop and repay the favor, pay it forward.
He's such a nice guy that way. While his wife stays in the house and cowers in the dark, praying for his safe return.
So, Diane...my husband has the whole "Village" thing down...I guess I need to work on it some more. I have thought about the fact that they smelled of booze, should they have been driving? They didn't appear to be drunk but ayyyee....what if their driving was impaired and we were the ones to put them on the road again. This whole village thing can get complicated.