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.