The road stretched ahead of them, a dark ribbon weaving through the mountains. David sat hunched over the wheel, eyes straining to find a familiar landmark, while his wife gripped a map in anxious hands. It was too dark to read it at 1:00 in the morning - not that it would do them any good. They were on the New York State Thruway, trying to get to the Catskill Mountains. And they were completely lost. Suddenly, the car started making unusual noises. The car was bumping loudly with each tire rotation. Then it became difficult for David to keep the car in his lane. It kept pulling to one side.
David pulled over at the side of the deserted road. It didn’t take him long to spot the trouble. The right front tire was completely shredded. Some nails had punctured the tire and had torn it apart. He glumly reported the damage to his wife.
“What can we do?” she wanted to know.
“The tire has to be changed. But it’s not something I’d care to tackle myself.”
“The highway is pretty deserted,” she said doubtfully. “How will we get help?”
“We’ll have to wait. Someone should pass by soon,” David said optimistically.
It wasn’t all that soon. But an hour later, a car came passing by - then slowed, and stopped. David watched in relief as the driver stepped out of the car. “You guys need help?” the man called.
“Yes, please,” David said thankfully. “If you could lend me a hand with my tire...”
The man walked over and studied the tire. “Yeah, you’ll need to change the tire. This one’s history.” He glanced over at David - then stared in surprise. “Are you an Orthodox Jew, by any chance?”
“Well, yes, I am,” David admitted. “Why do you ask?”
The man smiled. “Well, this is just amazing! Listen to this. Yesterday, I was driving with my daughter in the mountains, and my car runs out of gas. I sat there for hours, waiting for someone to stop. Finally, this religious Jewish guy pulls up, takes me to the gas station, and does everything he can to help me out.
“I decided right then and there that from now on, I’m going to stop for anyone I see who needs help. Now here it is, the very next day, and the first person I stop for is a religious Jew!” The man nodded in a satisfied way. “Now that’s what I call justice!”
David thanked Hashem - and then his unknown benefactor. That religious Jew would never know how his good deed helped another Jew in need. (Visions of Greatness VI)
Reprinted from the Parashat Vayigash 5785 email of Rabbi David Bibi’s Shabbat Shalom from Cyberspace.
