Angels in My Life and Random Acts of Kindness

I had started this story in a different way, about how I came to be in the situation that I found myself in, but it came to me that it was not about the situation. Rather, it was about the journey home, so I rewrote it to reflect that.

The story begins when on a return trip from a family funeral that was out of town, I found myself the subject of any angry attack from my then significant other. What began as a verbal outburst had continued throughout two states until my head was pounding from stress and my stomach churning with nausea. I finally tried to end the tirade by shouting, "Please just shut up until we get home." At that point the attack became physical when he grabbed my hair and yanked it. A line had been crossed and I lost all reason or logical thought. I just knew that I had to separate myself from him right then and there. I had been in an abusive marriage before and was not about to go there again.

So when he finally had to stop for gas, I got out and barricaded myself in the ladies' room to think things through. I had no plan, I just knew the torment had to stop and it had to stop now. So when he came to the door and asked me to come out, I said, "No." And when he asked me what I was going to do, I said "I'm going to find another way home." He told me he had to go across the street for gas, because the pumps weren't working there and I could meet him outside. Then I heard him leave.

When I walked out, the store clerk, who was a young foreign man asked me if I was ok and if there was anything he could do to help me. He had witnessed some of the outburst and knew that I was in trouble. At this point, I realized that I didn't even know where I was, much less how I was going to get home, so first I asked what the name of the town was. He said, "This is Christianburg, Virginia." I was about 160 miles from home and it was around 10:00 P.M. My next question for the clerk was whether there was a bus station anywhere nearby. By the grace of God, there was one about two blocks up the street from where I was standing. He told me that if it was closed to come back to the store and he would see what he could do to help. I thanked him for his kindness. Things might just turn out OK. At least I had my purse, a little cash and a charge card. So, I left the store and headed for the bus station, only to meet my tormentor outside.

He kept demanding I get back in the truck and I kept refusing, as the young store clerk watched anxiously from inside. Finally, he said, "If you're not getting back in, take your things with you." I knew he was thinking that the realization that I was about to be stranded, alone in the middle of the night, with nothing but my luggage would scare me into getting back in the truck. But, as I said earlier, I was beyond reasoning and beyond caring. I just knew that I couldn't face another minute trapped with him. So I unloaded the suitcase and started walking, pulling it behind me. Even though it was early April, a light snow had fallen and melted. There was now a soft mist in the air, not enough to call rain. The ground was muddy and I walked carefully, trying not to sling mud onto my luggage. Pulling my coat around me to keep out the damp cold, I walked through the dark street in the direction of the bus station. For a little while, he drove alongside of me, repeatedly telling me to get in the truck to which my answer was "NO!" When he saw he was getting nowhere, he finally just drove off. I saw his tail lights disappear and then it sank in. I was alone, in a strange town, in the middle of the night.

As I was walking, someone called out, "Miss, do you need a ride?" I turned to see two men sitting in a commercial type truck with some sort of contracting advertisement on the side.
As a general rule, good common sense would tell a woman alone, not to get to close to a vehicle with two men who were complete strangers, especially on a dark street. But somehow, I felt safer walking over to talk to the men than I had for the past few hours riding with someone I had known for over a year. So, I to thanked them for the ride offer, but explained that I was only going up the street to the bus station. They told me that most likely, at this time of the night, the bus station would be closed, but they would wait until I checked to make sure I would be ok. They were total strangers, yet they were concerned with my welfare. Naturally, the bus station was closed until 9 am the next day, so I came back to the truck to let them know. They asked why I was out like that alone, walking and I explained what had happened . After finding out that I live close to Salisbury, North Carolina, the driver of the truck said that they were supposed to go to a job site in Charlotte and unless their job was cancelled because of the weather, I was welcome to ride with them. Salisbury was on the way to Charlotte and they could drop me off. Unfortunately, they checked in with the supervisor and found out the job had been cancelled. After apologizing for not being able to drive me home, they asked if there was anything else they could do, I said no and thanked them for offering. Then I walked back up to the store to ask the clerk if there was a hotel close by where I could stay the night.

Being so distracted when we drove up, I hadn't noticed the hotel he pointed out to me across the street from the store. So, I thanked him once again and with my luggage in tow, crossed the street to my refuge for the night. When I walked up to the desk, the clerk, who must have seen that I was walking when I came up, glanced over my shoulder as if looking to see if there was a car anywhere in the parking lot. I asked for a room and he gave me the necessary paperwork to sign. After taking my credit card and finishing the transaction, he asked if I needed a parking pass for a vehicle. I sensed he knew that I didn't, but was wondering why I was out that late walking with my luggage. Without going into too much detail, I told him that I was sort of stranded for the night and I was just waiting on the bus station to open in the morning. He was very kind and told me that there were some cookies and muffins in the lounge if I was hungry and that there would be continental breakfast in the morning, so to be sure and have something to eat before I left out.

I hadn't even thought about being hungry, but realized that I was, so I got some coffee and a few cookies, then headed for my room. The thought came to me that a long hot bath might soothe the chill I had gotten from walking in the cold night air so I filled the tub and soaked for a while, then crawled in bed. The next morning, my wake up call came in time for me to grab some cereal and juice before leaving for the bus station. The friendly clerk chatted with me as I ate and told me to take care when I left out.

Finally, by about 10:30 A.M., I was on the bus, headed for home. Some of the tension from the day before had been lost with a good nights sleep and the knowledge that I was safely on my way. A few miles into the trip, a gentleman who was sitting across the aisle from me asked if I was traveling for business or pleasure. I told him a little about what had happened and he related a tale to me of a female friend of his that had been in an abusive relationship and how he had tried to help her work through it. Without being critical, he told me what I already knew, that I needed to get out of this so called relationship for good. We chatted through the miles about other things until we got to the next stop, at which he changed buses, heading off in a different direction.

At the stop, I went to see when my bus would leave for Charlotte, only to find that there would be a 10-hour layover. The bus terminal happened to be located inside a truck stop, which had a Taco Bell in it so I went to get something to eat and to wait. The bus driver also had come in to eat and asked when my next bus left. I told her not for 10 hours. She said that couldn't be right, it shouldn't be that long, so she went to check and make sure. When she returned, she told me I was right. There had been a death in the family of the driver of my next bus and they had to send a replacement, thus the delay. She brought her food and sat down with me to eat. "You know, she said, "there is no reason for you to sit here in this truck stop for the next 10 hours, when you can be with us on the bus. It's more comfortable and safer. Why don't you get your bags back on the bus and just ride with us to Knoxville? You can get a transfer to Charlotte there and you will still get home close to the same time you would if you stay here." I said I didn't know you could do that, but she said that my ticket was for Charlotte and it didn't matter what route I traveled to get there. I had eaten sort of light, because this was before fast food chains accepted credit cards and I was trying to stretch the cash I had until I got home. I don't know if she noticed that or not, but she pushed a burrito in my direction and said, "Do you want this? I'm not as hungry as I thought and I hate to throw it away." I thanked her, unwrapped the burrito and we continued to talk as we finished our meal.

When it was time to leave, another female driver who was a trainee, boarded the bus. Our current driver was teaching her the route. It was interesting having two lady drivers, so some other passengers and I chatted with them as we drove, asking questions about driving school, why they chose this job, how they liked it, etc. It made it easy to forget my plight and finally to relax because everyone was so friendly and open. The ride to Knoxville was long and stretched into the night. There weren't a lot of people on the bus, so the driver told us if we wanted to, we could take two seats and spread out to nap. I took her up on it as I was beginning to wind down, weary from the trip. Finally, in the wee hours after midnight, I arrived in Charlotte, with one more leg of the trip to go before I got to Salisbury.

I had about two and a half hours to go before I made my final boarding. My Taco Bell had worn off and there was a snack bar in the terminal, so I went to grab a bite to fill the void. I got a Coke and some fries. There were a couple of tables, where I sat down to eat, when a young black lady walked up and asked "Do you mind if I sit here?" in a sweet southern drawl. "Not at all," I said, so glad to hear the sound of home in her voice. She sat down and said, "Those fries sure do look good." I told her that for bus stop food, they were pretty good. She rummaged around in her purse, counting her money, then said, "I better not, I need to be sure I have my bus fare for home." I got out my wallet and took out the last couple dollars, laid it on the table and pushed it in her direction. "Go ahead," I said, wanting somehow to return some of the kindness that had been shown to me the last two days. She smiled a smile that would have lit up the terminal had the lights been out and said, "Thank you, so much, just give me your address and I will pay you back as soon as I can." "No, you don't need to do that," I told her. "Maybe someday you can do a favor for someone else."

She returned with her fries and Coke. Sitting down at the table, she relished them as if they were steak and champagne. "I have a car, you know," She said, "but it's been broke down, so I have had to take the bus. My boyfriend is going to fix it as soon as I can get parts for it. It will be good to get it back on the road." So we talked about her car and her boyfriend, our families and such until it was time for her to go. She thanked me again and disappeared into the darkness outside the terminal.

I left the snack bar and took a seat to finish out my wait, when a young man pushing an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair came up beside me. "I'm going to put you here next to the pretty ladies so you can flirt with them." He told the man, winking over his shoulder in my direction. The old man looked at me shyly and I smiled at him. He reminded me a great deal of my late grandfather. Then he began to talk. "You know. It's really hard for me to be like this. When I was young and strong, I could walk and take care of myself. Now I have to have someone take care of me. I used to work a job and take care of my farm along with my wife." Then he proceeded to tell me that his wife had died several years earlier and how much he still missed her. I learned that she was real beauty according to him and they had raised a happy family together, working hard alongside of each other. Their marriage had lasted more than half a century. You could hear the love and pride in his voice and see it in his eyes. We talked until the young man came to collect him for his trip. He was on his way to move in with relatives, since he could no longer care for himself or his beloved home. As he was leaving, he reached out and put his hand on mine and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with my stories, but when I looked at you, you smiled and I thought it would be ok to talk to you." I clasped his leathery hand in both of mine and said, "No, sir, you did not bother me. I was happy for the company. Now you have a safe trip." He said, "Thank you, you too" and then he was gone.

I finally made it home in the early hours of the morning. Opening the door, I dropped my luggage on the floor and basked in the safety and comfort that was home. Then I took a moment to thank God for getting me there safely and for the angels that he sent to accompany me along the way. Thanks to them, I had seen what real love and caring were about. Now I had the strength to do what I had needed to do all along. It was time to end my abusive relationship and strive to find that kind of love.