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Grace
Posted On: 10/22/2006 15:36:36
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Last night about midnight, as I sat at my computer, I heard three loud thuds. My car, sitting parked in front of my house, has been hit numerous times, most likely by a drunken driver. Of course they have never left a note and, fortunately, my old but in very good condition (until now, but I'm getting ahead of myself) '93 Buick Century Custom Wagon has full coverage so my insurance company has covered the repairs.
Back to last night...I looked out the window on the side of my house (from where it seemed the "thud" sounds had come, and saw nothing. Then I went to my front window to look out where my car is parked, and saw people gathering in the street. In my robe, nightgown and slippers, I went out to see what had happened. It was raining softly. First thing, I checked my car. Oh, my gosh! Not again!! The rear street side of the entire back of my car had been "blown away" including the little side vent window in the back. Pieces of my car were strewn everywhere. But mine wasn't the only car that had been hit. Two other cars on the opposite side of the street also had extensive damage, every other car, in fact, as if something had ricocheted back and forth from one side of the street to another, hitting here and there as it flew by.
One of the neighbors had heard the noise and come running out in his socks and chased down the car that had caused the damage to where it came to a stop, just down the next street. He, along with a few other men from the neighborhood, kept the perpetrator, who they said smelled of liquor, from leaving. There were a lot of words flying around, like "spic" and "illegals." It took forever for the police to arrive (typical). The police took all our information and said to pick up our accident reports in the morning at the station.
So this morning I got up and dressed and took myself over to the police station. As I walked into the vestibule, there was a young Mexican man standing in disposable hospital scrubs, barely able to walk, with his belongings in a small plastic bag. He spoke to me in Spanish, asking if I had change for the phone. I asked him what had happened. He said he had an accident last night. I commented that maybe his accident had been with my (and the others') car on 73rd Court. He seemed to not deny it.
So what does one say when in such a situation? I asked if he had auto insurance. Nope. I then began to talk to him about driving drunk, how it could have been a person he hit, maybe someones child, how all of us whose cars were damaged would now be paying for his choice to drive intoxicated, how he himself was now injured.
Believe me, I know how it goes. I was married for 20 years to a Mexican man who, though for most of our married life was a good husband and father, a dependable provider, etc., eventually, at 50 years of age, succumbed (not literally) to the addiction of alcohol and, in time, cocaine. I know it's the culture. They grow up (and I know it's not only in the Mexican culture) watching the men "kick back" with a few beers (or more than a few) after a hard day's work. It's their "due." Social gatherings are always accompanied by alcohol. And it's a spiraling downswing that only gets worse.
So here is this young man, working a temp job (as he told me when I asked), no insurance, here with no family (and probably illegal), working days and taking English classes at night, barely making it (somewhat like myself, actually) who, because of his poor judgement, has created havoc for not only several of us whose cars happened to be in his bleary path, but himself as well. Surely his situation will not afford any of us any compensation for our damages. So what feelings should this inspire in me? Anger? Hatred? Prejudice?
Actually, grace is what came to mind. Someone who is lost is in desperate need of grace, that undeserved forgiveness such as that which God's grace offered to sinful me, so undeserved, made possible by Jesus' coming to take the punishment in my place when He died so that I might live and be right with God. Shall I look to another human being with any less?
So I talked to this young man about changes, about filling his life with God instead of drinking. I gave him my address and told him to come any time he felt he was lonely or wanted something to do beside drinking. I told him I'd find a Spanish-speaking church and we'd go together. I offered him my hand.
Grace.
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