A couple of friends and I were driving to see a mutual friend whom we had not seen for more than a year who lived in another town.  We discovered that the grocery store that had served as a marker for the street on which we should turn was gone.  We continued driving straight in hopes that we would come to a familiar street.  That did not happen.  We were lost and had no GPS.

We decided to stop at a mini-mart and get directions.  A mini-mart patron, rather than the clerk, said he could help us.  He told us to follow him and turn left at the second stoplight after he turned off. 

As we exited the mart in front of him, we heard him say something to the clerk about this possibly helping him get into heaven.

Unfortunately, the left turn did not put us on a street that ran more than two blocks.  I, the driver, went around a few blocks in an effort to get back to the street from which we had turned.  I complained to my friends about a car “on our tail.”  No sooner had I got the words out of my mouth when the car pulled past us and motioned for us to stop.  It was the mini-mart patron.  He told us to follow him; that he would take us to the street we wanted.  I thanked him. “Wow,” I said, “Isn’t that nice?” 

My friends were a bit nervous about following him, but I figured we three big women could handle him.The man had obviously realized that the directions he had given us were wrong and had come to rescue us.

I recognized the area in which our friend lived just before the man pulled over.  We rolled down our windows and thanked him. He turned his car around and left. 

Thank goodness he cared about being kind for kindness sake or for getting him into heaven. He had been compassion on wheels.

Peggy Tarr has been a columnist for the Evanston RoundTable since its founding in 1998. Born in Bruce Springsteen's hometown of Freehold, New Jersey, she graduated from Rutgers University with a degree...