Reward
Long haul trucking has its rewards. One of the perks is the chance to see the beauty of this great land of ours.
I would be hard put to list every breathtaking scene I've seen. But as I drove across this country I never tired of seeing the mountains, deserts, rivers, sunrises, sunsets, falling stars, moon rises, eagles flying, deer grazing, etc. And the list goes on.
However, once in awhile something especially breathtaking happens...like seeing the Northern Lights or an eclipse.
A few years ago I happened to be in the right place at the right time. The place was North Dakota. The time was the dead of winter. And who in his right mind wants to be in North Dakota in the middle of winter? Only a dumb truck driver.
What I happened to witness was the most amazing sunrise I'd ever seen. Yeah, it was a VERY cold morning. Still, because it was so cold, the conditions were perfect and the reward was a chance to see this amazing thing happening in the sky. It is called a Sun Dog. Bright spots of light appear in the sky, like a ring or halo on either side of the sun. Spectacular!!
A reward. A memory to file away and cherish.
BAKED APPLES
(This is not an original story. For many years I was a long haul truck driver. I collected an assortment of stories in my wanderings.)
Max left New York City and had been traveling for several hours in the rain. Sometime around midnight, he got hungry and stopped at a roadside diner.
Max took a seat, as was his custom, at the counter. Next to him was an elderly man with drooping shoulders, wearing tattered clothing. Max thought he looked as though he had walked too many miles in his lifetime. "Pretty nasty weather out there, isn't it?" said Max trying to start up a conversation. The only response he got was a grumble under the breath. Looked like the old man just wanted to be left alone. Max finished his meal in silence. But just before he left, he asked the waitress, "How much for a baked apple?"
"Two-fifty," she responded.
"Here," said Max, pulling out three singles. "This should cover the price of the apple pie and your tip." Then pointing to the elderly man, Max said, "Now please give it to that man and just say, 'It's on the house.'"
The waitress gave Max a warm smile and said, "Sure, will do."
As he traveled Max thought about the gesture he had just made. "What a bit of foolishness. Why in the world a baked apple? Why not a cup of coffee.? He finally concluded, "A cup of coffee from a stranger to a stranger may be a sweet gesture, but it's quickly forgotten. But a fresh baked apple might jostle the old man out of his stupor, and might even lift his spirits a bit."
Max continued on the long and narrow highway. The night wore on. The endless white line became a challenge as Max struggled to stay alert and awake. The lull of sleep called out to him. Then out of nowhere a huge Mac truck hit him on the side, pushing him off the edge of the road. Perhaps in the light of day, with different weather conditions, Max might have been able to handle the car and maintain his position on the road. But now, Max's car skidded and slid into a ditch. Within moments he was unconscious.
The rain poured. Cars zoomed by. No one seemed to notice the accident.
Finally, a young man driving by spotted Max's car. He stopped and made his way to the wreckage. He figured that with the weather so bad, even if he managed to call 911, it would take forever for someone to arrive. Since he lived close by, he decided to take Max, still unconscious, to his own home. There he would call help.
Shortly after arriving in the stranger's home, Max regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar face.
"My God," the stranger said, "that was some fall you and your car took! Now sit up and eat something my wife made for you."
Max looked at the plate set down in front of him. Sitting on a glass dish was a fresh-baked apple.
Note: Now my basic first aid says not to move an injured person. Only do this as a last resort. Also, I don't know about the wisdom of giving them something to eat. But, my friends, it IS only a story.
