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A young and very successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street. He was going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed no children appeared, instead, a brick smashed into the Jag’s side door!
He slammed on the brakes, spun the Jag back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown.
He jumped out of the car, grabbed some kid and pushed him up against a parked car, shouting, “What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck were you doing?” Building up a head of steam, he went on. “That’s a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost you a lot of money! Why did you do it?”
“Please, mister, please, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!” pleaded the youngster. “I threw the brick because no one else would stop.” Tears were dripping down the boy’s chin as he pointed around the parked car. “It’s my brother,” he said. “He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can’t lift him up.” Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, “Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He’s hurt and he’s too heavy for me.”
Moved beyond words, the driver tried desperately to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. Straining, he lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was going to be okay.
“Thank you, sir!” He then watched the boy push his brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
It was a long walk back to his Jaguar, a long and slow walk. He never did repair the side door. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.
Life whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart. Sometimes, when you don’t have the time to listen life throws a brick at your head. It’s your choice: Listen to the whispers of your soul or wait for the brick.
Submitted by: Christine
Music: ‘Hope’ © Margi Harrell