When I saw how little they had eaten, I brought out the container of roast and potatoes my wife Diane had prepared for the next day. It was supposed to be our dinner after church, but hunger is hunger and kindness does not wait for convenience. Allison protested politely, but I told her with a smile that food tastes better when shared, and soon their little girl was eating with wide grateful eyes that burned the moment into my memory.
After they warmed up, I put on my thickest coat and trudged through the storm to their stranded sedan, following Peter through knee deep snow until we reached the vehicle. I worked by flashlight, fingers stiff and numb, loosening bolts and cleaning a clogged fuel line until the engine finally coughed back to life. Peter stared in disbelief when the headlights burst into brightness, and he tried to press money into my hand, bills that looked like they were meant for groceries or rent. I refused with a gentle shake of my head, telling him that sometimes people simply help each other and call it even.