The college I went to was more than four hours’ drive from where I lived. When I first showed up, I wasn’t familiar at all with the region surrounding the campus, which was out in the boondocks. I was fortunate enough to have a car during my freshman year, so once during some free time, and before I even figured out who any of my friends were going to be, I headed out for a drive.
The college was, truly, out in the middle of nowhere. Cornfields and forests surrounded the place. My natural inclination was to become familiar with the town that would have the nearest movie theater, Walmart, and a couple of cheapish restaurants to choose from. I figured out how to get there and headed in that direction.
While I was driving around the place, my car stopped working. I don’t remember what the problem was, but I think the clutch fell apart, so I couldn’t shift gears. This wasn’t a problem I could limp back to campus with; I couldn’t drive the thing at all anymore.
Now, this was way back in the dark ages when I didn’t have a cell phone or a GPS. I ended up calling home from a pay phone somewhere (remember those?) and getting some advice. Fortunately my folks had set me up with a Triple A membership before I headed out to school, so I was able to get linked up with a tow truck that came and found me and drove my car and I back to school.
That solved the immediate problem, but I didn’t know what to do next as far as fixing the car. College wasn’t cheap, and neither were mechanics. I hated dealing with garages and auto shops because I knew so little about car maintenance that they could be ripping me off and I’d have no idea. My parents got in touch with the parents of someone who had just recently graduated from the same school, and asked if their son had ever dealt with car issues at school. They recommended I get in touch with a man named Bob that worked in the college’s maintenance department.
I looked him up, and it turns out that his wife Martha worked in an administrative position in the science building, and she had signed for many packages I delivered during one of the work/study jobs I wrote about previously. I told him about my problem, and he was open to taking a look. He was a super nice guy and helped put me at ease. I told him the make, model, and location of my car, gave him the key, and he went to survey the damage.
Bob somehow got my car into the workshop and fixed it for me with no fuss. When I met up with him to settle the bill, I was mentally preparing myself not to flinch when I heard the number. It was very low, though. It turns out that this sweet, white-haired, soft-spoken man, probably in his early 60s, only charged me for the cost of the parts, and he fixed my car without charging me anything for the effort he put into it. I was incredibly grateful, because money definitely was not plentiful, but I had to do something for him. He wouldn’t take additional money, so I went to the store and bought a bag of candy for him. When I gave it to him and told him to have a great day, he gave me a big smile and said “can’t help that now.”
I don’t think I ever interacted with Bob again during the rest of my time at school, but just recently I received an alumni magazine in the mail. It’s interesting to look in the sections that give alumni news by graduation year. I like looking to see things like who got married, who had kids, who had some kind of notable career development. There’s also the dreaded “in memoriam” page that lists fellow alumni that have passed away. As I perused the pages, I was startled to find that both Bob and his wife Martha passed away this past fall, just over a month apart from each other.
Bob was a special guy. I have no idea how many students he helped during the course of working at the college. The poet Maya Angelou had a quote that said something like “at the end of the day people won’t remember what you said or did, they’ll remember how you made them feel.” I believe that through Bob, God made me feel as though He were saying “look, don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
I’ve written before about sweet, ordinary people that God has used in my life during a time of great need. The sad news I received from this magazine reminds me to pass along some encouragement to you. You might not feel like you have anything special to offer to God’s service…you may not be well known, and you may only have limited means…but if you’re faithful in your pursuit of Christ and in the employment of the gifts He’s entrusted to you, rest assured that He will use you for good in the lives of others.
Lord, I thank you for Bob and Martha, the lives they lived, and the legacy they left. Thank you personally for the way Bob blessed me, and please use this example from his life as a way of blessing, encouraging, and even spurring others on as they live for You. Please give the two of them a hug for me, and let them know that they’re still affecting people down here for the better. Amen.
