A Different Offering

I was running late. I’m usually running late, so today was really no different. As I approached the four-way stop, I noticed that the lady in front of me had her parking lights on, and refused to progress through the intersection though no cars were coming. Irritated, I backed up in preparation to drive around her, until she got out of her car and approached me. I rolled down my window.

“I’m sorry. The reason I’m stopped is because I’m trying to scrounge up some change for gas so I can go to work,” she said. She wore blue patch-work jeans with camel-colored stitching. Her top was a camel-colored, sleeveless lace camisole. Her hair was shoulder length... a grayish black sew-in with deep waves.

“Okay, it’s no problem,” I replied.

“I’m not going to ask you for any money, but could I follow you to a gas station? And, maybe you could help me out with a few dollars to get some gas in my tank?”

“Um, I’m not really familiar with this area… but I can help you out with gas,” I said. The only thing I knew about this part of town was where my church was located. A church that I was a block away from, whose service I was clearly going to miss.

“Okay,” she smiled. She got back into her car and proceeded through the intersection to the nearest gas station. She drove a black compact four-door. I can’t remember the make and model, but I recall a large, deep scratch on the rear left door. She was missing a few hub caps as well.

Once we arrived at the Shell, I started to insert my debit card into the machine. Of course, as one might expect in any hood gas station, it was broken. I opened my wallet. Two crisp twenty dollar bills. Though I was young and struggling, I ultimately knew that I was provided for. God has just worked His magic on Friday, had He not? Furthermore, I was on my way to church. Could I really call myself a Christian if I neglected those in need? Without hesitation, I pulled out a twenty and handed it to her.

“Wha-?” she gasped. “You – you are an angel! I know nobody sees you but me. Nobody will believe this. You must be an angel. You have a good day. I – oh my…Thank you. THANK YOU!” she stuttered. I smiled. I had done my good deed for the day, and it felt nice. I considered it my offering for the service to which I was already late. I guess I could just make it to the 12:00 service. No biggie.

I pictured God smiling too.

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