I was scheduled to praise sing for Bible study last night. Practice started at 6:30 so I left our house shortly before 6:00. One difference this pandemic has brought is traffic is much lighter in Southern California, but people are driving much faster.
I made it to Burbank and stopped at a light about a half mile from the church. And my car promptly died! It completely quit running. Nothing I did could get it to start back up. My hazard lights wouldn't even come on. The light turned green and I started sweating, I knew people were going to be getting angry that I wasn't moving. Of course a few honked and then blew past me.
The sweet girl directly behind me pulled up next to me and asked if I needed help. I told her I would call our roadside assistance. While she was talking to me my phone rang. It was Sis. Michelle Miranda, they had driven by me on their way to church and stopped just on the other side of the intersection. Her husband, Bro. Gonzalo, pushed my car through the intersection and safely to the side of the road. I thanked them and let them know I would be fine waiting for roadside assistance.
I got on the phone and the wait began. I was on hold for more than 20 minutes before talking to anyone. I finally gave all my details and a tow truck was called. ETA 75 minutes! Of course I had to stay with the vehicle. And it was getting dark out.
Where was Les in all this? He was still working. He still lines up his day with Hawaii, which means working 11:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. most days. I sent him a text message but knew he was on his weekly one on one call with his boss. He called a little after 7:00 and after chatting for a few minutes decided to head my way.
 |
| Finally loaded on the tow truck and on it's way. |
More than two hours after my car conked out, the tow truck finally arrived! I was able to go home with Les while the tow truck driver took our car to our mechanic. Les went down and talked to them this morning and now we're waiting on the verdict.
One of the last things I said to Les last night was, "Thanks for coming to get me, I really don't like being a damsel in distress!" It's not that I'm "Mrs. Independent, I Don't Need a Man." I'm happy to let Les help and protect me, I just don't like being stranded on the side of the road! Les reminded me that I have rescued him more than once when he's been stranded on the side of the road with his bike.
That led to a late night discussion of the meaning of "damsel in distress" and trying to figure out if there is a male version. From Wikipedia, "The word "damsel" derives from the French damoiselle, meaning "young lady", and the term "damsel in distress" in turn is a translation of the French demoiselle en détresse.
It is an archaic term not used in modern English except for effect or
in expressions such as this. It can be traced back to the knight-errant of Medieval songs and tales, who regarded protection of women as an essential part of his chivalric code which includes a notion of honor and nobility."
The male version of damoiselle is damoisel, which means "young man who was not yet a knight and aspired to be one." The French word damoisel translated to English is damsel. So a damsel in distress can also be a man!
The conclusion of this whole convoluted matter is simply this - we all
need help sometimes! While finishing up this post, I remember something
I posted a few years ago about Mr. Rogers. He said, "There was something else my mother did that I’ve always remembered: “Always look for the helpers,” she’d tell me. “There’s always someone who is trying to help.” I did, and I came to see that the
world is full of doctors and nurses, police and firemen, volunteers,
neighbors and friends who are ready to jump in to help when things go
wrong."
I can't imagine a more fitting time than now that we need to look for helpers. In this troubled world, look for the helpers. Whenever possible, join the helpers. And if you can't find one - BE the helper!
