It was only the day before
I’d gotten my car serviced
so I knew everything was fine
but today driving in a downpour,
the car loses power and slows
to a stop before I can pull over.
The driver behind me must think
I’m crazy suddenly stopping
in the middle of the road.
The car pulls around me
and turns onto a street ahead
and then as I’m calling for help,
I see the driver in a hooded
yellow slicker walking back
to me in the driving rain.
As she approaches, I can see
it’s an African American woman
with a Kroger name tag.
I don’t recognize her but maybe
she’s a cashier or works in the deli.
As I open the door, her face filled
with concern–Honey, are you ok?
I assure her I’m fine, it’s just my car
that died.  She heads back to her car
a half block away, rain pelting
her hood and I imagine on to Kroger
to clock in.

I’ve told this story countless times,
so many times it’s become the stuff
of legend, though in truth it really happened.
I would tell how stunned I was by this act of selfless
kindness from a woman whose people
have suffered unceasing cruelty.
I would say how changed I was
by this event.  Transformed.
And I wish I could tell
you it’s true but just last Sunday
on the way to church, I pulled around
a stranded car since I had a destination
on my mind.

And even now I speed through Kroger
preoccupied with the next thing.
I wonder if my rescuer recognizes me
as I hurry out the door.