A GOOD SAMARITAN FOR OUR TIME

A GOOD SAMARITAN FOR OUR TIME

     “It looks as though I need to go to the city council yet again to voice my concerns about conditions in this park. I thought we had the bums and degenerates pretty well outta here, but it seems they’re back.”

     “You really should, Ken. Just last night, my wife was telling me how she couldn’t take our younger kids to the playground because of the unsightly, not to mention dangerous, conditions here now. And I’m not talking about the landscaping, if you know what I mean.”

     “Gosh Allen, we’d better get a move on.  Church Council is discussing the expansion of the food for the homeless program and I think there might be a vote. I’m all for helping the homeless. Don’t get me wrong. But the problem is that too many undesirables hang around the church property for too long. Molly Worcester mentioned to me that some of the parents of children in our day-care program have expressed some concerns. I’m thinking we could find another place to set up our food for the homeless  We might even look into getting a food truck that can go into areas where the homeless hang out, so they don’t have to hang out by the church.”

     “That’s an interesting idea, Ken. Take the food where the people are.”

     “Remind me to bring up the park situation at the next City Council meeting, would you Allen?”

     Ken and Allen continued on to the Church Council meeting.  Not long after, two older ladies strolled along the same park promenade.

“…  and I think the china pattern Cindy picked out hits just the right balance between formal and every day. Young people today aren’t so interested in fine dining, but they still want quality.  However, I can’t say I agree with her flatware choice. I think it’s a little too trendy.  But it’s their home, so they need to make their own mistakes.”

     “I know just what you’re saying, Eloise. When my Susie …”

     “Excuse me, ladies.  Can you direct me to the bus station?”

     “Well, let’s see,” Eloise commented as she distanced herself from the slightly disheveled looking man who had approached them. “I think it’s about three blocks from here down that street. You can ask someone when you get to the street. I’m sure they’ll know.”

     “Thank you so much, ma’am.  Have a good day.”

     “I probably should have asked him if he needed money for a bus ticket, but in the back of mind I just thought he would use it to buy alcohol,” Eloise remarked.

     “You’re probably right,” Eloise’s friend Margot replied. “Did you happen to notice that Mexican girl, or whatever she is, sitting on that bench?  She can’t be more than fifteen and she’s obviously pregnant. We’re just being overrun with’em.”

     “That’s the truth. But one upside to it is that I can get my yard work done so much more reasonably than I used to. There’s this Mexican, I guess he’s Mexican, gardener who does absolutely wonderful work. And for not “muchos pesos.”

     “’Muchos pesos,' that’s so funny!”  Eloise and Margot laughed. Eloise then commented, “I guess we’ll all being speaking Spanish before long.  You’re getting a head start!”  Once again, they both laughed.

     “On a more serious note, Margot, please keep Westney and her family in your prayers.  They just lost their mountain cabin in a horrible fire. I understand her priceless quilt collection was lost, along with lots of family heirlooms.”

     “That’s so tragic. They worked so hard to get that little place, and I know they enjoyed it.  I certainly will keep them in my prayers.”

     Eloise and Margot continued on their walk.

     Eva Sanchez, the woman Margot referred to, sat on a bench enjoying the beautiful weather. Being thirty, and not fifteen, she was expecting her and her husband’s second child. They were so excited because they had been told she could not conceive again. Eva heard the women, but paid them no mind. She was more interested in the older man who had asked the ladies for directions. She got up and walked up to him.

     “Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”

     “I’m looking for the bus station. I need to get to Boston.”

     “Boston is a long way from here.  Are you sure that’s where you want to go?”

     “That’s my home.”

     While Eva spoke with the man a police officer came up.

     “Officer, this gentleman says he wants to go to Boston, but I think he might have Alzheimer’s. He acts just like one of my uncles who had Alzheimer’s.”

     The officer then asked the man, “Sir, are you okay?”

     “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

     “Can you tell me your name?” the officer then asked.

     “I don’t know.”

     “Do you have any identification?”

     “I’ve got a paper here. I don’t have a wallet.’”

     The man then reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.  On it was written his name, address, and telephone number.

     “Let me call these numbers,”  the officer said.

     The officer then called what he assumed to be a home number. There was no answer, only an answering machine.  After leaving a message, he then called a cell number. This time there was an answer. The officer explained to the woman who answered that he was with an older man who seemed to be lost.  She explained that it was her father and that she would leave work immediately.  Eva then offered to take the man to his apartment as it was on her way home. The lady on the other end of the line thanked her and said she would be home was soon as possible. She assured the officer that they would be okay and showed him her nurse’s card. 

     Right by the apartment building where the man lived was a little café. As they walked by, Eva asked the man if he might like something to drink. She presumed he might have not had anything to eat for a while, so she offered to buy him a sandwich. 

     “Sir, you remind me so much of one of my uncles. He was one of the nicest people I have ever known.  You know, he loved music and loved to sing.  Do you love to sing?”

     “I don’t know.”

     Eva began singing a little tune and soon the man was singing along. He had a very nice voice. He also began smiling. Everyone in the café noticed and began smiling as well.  Then, Eva’s phone rang.

     “Mrs. Sanchez?”

     “Yes.”

“This is Miss Keebler. I’m so sorry, but there has been a wreck and I’m stuck in traffic. It will be at least twenty minutes before I can get there.”

     “Don’t rush, Miss Keebler. We're at the café right by your apartment building. I’m afraid I have to go to meet my husband to go to a play my daughter is in, but the manager here is very nice.  I’m sure he won’t mind looking after your father until you get here.”

     “Oh yes, Mr. Evans. He is very nice. That will be fine. I pulled over to call, so I’d better get back on my way. I know you must think I’m an awful daughter, but I was stuck today for care and I had to work.  My father promised he would stay in the apartment. I had food prepared for his lunch and everything.”

     “I don’t think anything like that, Miss Keebler. The fact that you had a slip in his pocket with contact information shows you care.  Just be safe, Miss Keebler.  Everything is fine.”

     “Mr. Evans?”  Eva asked the manager.

     “Yes.  Since you know Miss Keebler and her father, would you mind looking after him until she can get here?”

     “No problem, Miss …

     “Mrs. Sanchez, Eva Sanchez.”

     “Miss Keebler and her father come here all the time. They’re nice people. I’ll take good care of Mr. Keebler.”

     “That’s so nice of you. I’d stay, but this is my daughter’s first play and my husband took off early from work to go with me to see her.  You know, Mr. Evans, Miss Keebler will probably be tired from fighting traffic to get here. Let me pay you for Mr. Keebler’s sandwich and drink and give you some money for Miss Keebler to get something for dinner.”

     “Oh, that’s not necessary, but it’s very generous of you.”

     “It’s nothing. My husband is a gardener and I'm a nurse. We don’t have, as some people say, ‘muchos pesos,’ but we have all the things that really matter. Please take this. Also, if you don’t mind. I have a card here for emergency home care. This service is very reasonable and they are able to supply a qualified care giver at a moment’s notice. I know they are very reliable and a quality service.  When my uncle was living with us, we had to call on them several times and they were wonderful.  Please give the card to Mrs. Keebler and tell her they have my highest recommendation.”

     “Should I give her your name, Mrs. Sanchez?”

     “No, that’s fine. God bless you, Mr. Evans. And God bless you, Mr. Keebler.”

     Mr. Keebler then answered, “Thank you so much, Miss …?”