Fuel Bill


She didn’t ask me for help.  Gas tanks between us, I watched as she opened her car doors and then the trunk. Reaching for her phone, as the pump continued to click, she left a message, “Forgot purse.” Realization hit and she sprinted to cancel the flow of gas.

I’ve been in her shoes. Well dressed and on the way to the office for a 12-hour day before logging a few more at home. Producing good results, yet only a step ahead of the story now unfolding in front of me.

With empathy, I paid for my gas and for hers.  It wasn’t much.  But her gratitude was enormous and the gesture fueled us both.

3 thoughts on “Fuel Bill

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