“When you dig another out of their troubles, you find a place to bury your own.”
— Author Unknown
It was hot. I was tired. My hips hurt. My pace slow. Nothing was right on my noon run until I heard the words,
“Do you have strong arms?”
I looked up to see a frail elderly gentleman with thick glasses, his shorter wife next to him, a blue pickup truck, two long flat boards resting at an angle between the tail gate and the ground. In the bed was a very large portable generator.
The couple held themselves with dignity and asked for a hand,
“Can you help us move the generator?”
It was heavy, very heavy. The gentleman put both hands on the handle, but it was clearly too much for him. Even without help, it didn’t take but five minutes, maybe less, to move the generator from truck to the ground and into the garage. I offered up a sweaty hand and introduced myself to John and Marie.
“Thank you,” they both said several times, as they took my hand in theirs.
I ran back out of the driveway. I ran out of their lives. My step was livelier. My hips didn’t hurt. I was no longer tired and it might even have been a little cooler.
As you run through your days, carrying around the weight of your own problems, stop and listen. There may be someone calling out for your strong arms.
And then, as you ponder whether or not to help, try to remember …
… it’s hard to offer a helping hand if your hands are full of your own problems.
Yesterday’s gift of time … Lent a helping hand to a nice couple who needed to move a generator. My hands weren’t full of problems after all.