Would You Like Me to Help You?

Kindness is still king

Author’s image created in NightCafe_2026

I pulled up at the diesel pump at the local service station. A woman in a small white car was getting out next to me. She was a frail elderly lady. Moving slowly, I figured it was arthritis or joint pain. She seemed unsure and nervous.

I proceeded to fill my car with petrol (gas). She is a thirsty beast and was nearly empty, so I was going to be a little while.

I was due at the doctor’s in fifteen minutes, but the surgery was close by. While they are always running late, they hate it if you dare to be late. I don’t like being late anymore and always endeavor to be on time as a common courtesy.

I noticed the lady walking around her car. She paused, hesitated, and glanced at the sky, as if seeking divine help. “Why doesn’t she just get on and fill up her car?” I thought to myself.

She got back into her car with almost as much difficulty as when she got out. My car’s pump clicked, telling me it was full. $100, thank you very much!

The woman was back out again, circling her car. I need to see if she is alright, I thought, but that’s going to make me later, and really, it’s none of my business. What was it that my mother or grandmother was in that position? Would I want someone to help?

Late or not, I think I answered my own question. I approached the lady.

“Excuse me. Are you okay? You look a bit lost. Can I help you?”

“Oh, dear,” she said between states of absolute panic and almost in tears. “I need petrol, but I do not know how to do it. My son has always filled up my car. I need some petrol because I have been putting it off, and I am almost empty.”

My immediate thought was to tell her to go in and ask the guy behind the desk to fill it up for her. On second thought, that was a stupid idea. No one does anything for anyone that they don’t have to these days, especially young upstarts like him. She would only get more stressed.

“Let me go and pay for my petrol and then I will come back and fix it up for you — O.K.”

The lady looked as if she had just been cleansed of all problems. A gentle smile confirmed it was okay.

“Don’t worry, I will be right back.”

My internal struggle began. Now, because I am going to help this lady, I will be late. My obsessive-compulsive urge to be correct started to gnaw at me. “Shut up, you idiot,” I told myself. “You are doing a good thing, and for once in your life, accept it is not a perfect world.”

When I returned, I asked the lady how much petrol she wanted. “I don’t know,” she said, “I guess you had best fill it up, but I don’t know how much money I have on me. I don’t use credit cards and need to go to the bank.”

“Don’t worry about that; we will sort it out,” I said, trying to reassure her. “You have a look and tell me how much money you have to spend, and I will put that much in.”

“Alright,” she said, hesitating. I could see she thought that maybe I was going to rob her of her money.

“I will get your pump ready.”

“Oh, dear, your fuel tank is on the wrong side of the pump.”

“Oh. Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t know where it was. I walked around the car trying to find it,” she replied, starting to get anxious again.

“No problems, I think we can make it work,” I said confidently, but I started to worry about the time again.

“I have thirty dollars; will that be enough?” she inquired.

I told her that I would do it and I would put thirty dollars’ worth in her car.

We filled her up almost to the brim and went to pay. As we were walking back out to her car, what she said changed my whole day.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you had not been there and offered to help. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I need to see my son in the hospital. He was in an accident last week and has serious injuries. He lives with me and does all these sorts of things for me. He has no one else in the world and is very depressed. So, thank you.”

I felt a wave of good and was no longer concerned about being late.

When I got to the doctor, of course, he was running on time. “You’re a bit late; was traffic a problem?” he asked.

I put on a wry smile and said, “No, not the traffic, but something else happened on the way here …”

Till next time,

Calvin

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