Asking for help is one thing, but pounding on someone’s door in the dead of night takes boldness to a whole new level.
One frigid night, my husband and I were startled awake by the deafening thud of someone pounding on our door. With a disgruntled grumble, he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed to see who it was.
When he opened the door, a man stood on our porch, completely drenched and shivering uncontrollably. “Excuse me,” the man said, his tone polite. “Could you possibly give me a push?”
My husband scowled, clearly irritated. “Are you kidding me? It’s three o’clock in the morning! And it’s freezing cold out here!” He forcefully slammed the door shut and stomped back to bed, still muttering under his breath.
“Who was it?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.
“Some guy asking for a push,” he replied, annoyance evident in his voice.
“Did you help him?”
“Help him? Not a chance! It’s pitch – black outside and pouring rain!”
I gave him a withering look. “Do you remember when our car broke down last winter? Those kind strangers who pushed us out of that ditch? Don’t you think it’s our turn to pay it forward?”
With a sigh of resignation, he got dressed and stepped out into the cold. I watched him from the window.
“Hey, where are you?” he called out to the man.
“Over here,” came the reply.
“Where exactly?”
“On the swing set!”
The look on his face when he stormed back inside, soaking wet, was truly a sight to behold.