Good Deeds

Doing a “good deed” does not always leave one feeling warm and fuzzy. Several years ago, my wife and I drove to Llano, Texas, where we stopped at Cooper’s to have some Central Texas BBQ.  I don’t recall exactly when we were there, but it must have been between late October and January, as we commented to one another that we were in the midst of deer season.

A guy and his two teen aged kids were in front of us as we went through the line to pay and, when he got to the cashier, he pulled out his credit card to pay. The cashier said something to the effect that “the phone lines are down, we can’t accept credit cards today; cash only.”  He pulled the cash out of his wallet and found it to be far short of the cost of their meals. The price for the three of them amounted to something over $35. He asked if he could pay part now and part later when he could get more cash; the answer was ‘no.’ I had plenty of cash on me, so I offered to pay, saying “I’ve found myself in the same situation.” He said, “are you sure you want to do this?” then said he was very grateful and would repay me if I would give him my address.

When we both got through the line, I wrote my address on a piece of paper and gave it to him. He thanked me profusely, again, and we went our separate ways.

A couple of weeks later, I said to my wife, “I got scammed. If he was going to pay me back, he would have by now. What bothers me more than the money is the fact that I gave him my name and address; and I didn’t bother to get his information. He could be trying to open up bank accounts in my name!”

For the next week, I let myself imagine the guy using my name to get loans, buy cars, set up bank accounts…my paranoia went wild.

Then, the following week, an envelope arrived in the mail. Inside were four $10 bills and a note, apologizing for the delay (he had misplaced the note with my address) and expressing deep appreciation to God and Jesus for my help. The note went on to say the guy was a pastor  who had been taking his boys on a hunting trip. He said he used that experience, running out of money and being helped by a stranger, in a sermon. While I objected to being labeled an instrument of God, I did appreciate getting my money back. And it did feel good to know my assistance was appreciated. More than anything, though, the return of the money put my mind at ease; I assumed he had not tried to get a credit card in my name.