When The Motorcyle Fell
It was late on a Sunday evening. We were driving home from a backyard barbecue — the windows were open just a crack to let in that fresh summer breeze, and the radio was humming in the background as we chatted about the evening. The baby was fast asleep in the backseat. Life was good.
We were waiting at a light when we heard a strange noise. I saw something odd to my left — it looked like motorcycle lights that were somehow cockeyed. They were leaning to the side. For a moment, I thought, perhaps that’s what motorcycle lights look like when waiting at a light to proceed.
And then I realized that the bike was lying on its side — and the thud we heard was the driver skidding and falling to his side.
We put the car in park.
Our little guy was fast asleep in the back, and the only lights we could see were from the glow of headlights and the sparks of fireflies that hung in the air.
As my husband went to get out of the car, two other men had already arrived at the driver’s side to help him off the ground.
They asked him if he could stand.
We asked if we could call anyone.
And then, they gently helped him onto his bike and found his way home. In the thickness of the summer night, strangers stopped what they were doing to help a person in need.
It was beautiful.
It was a reminder, too.
Sometimes, the world can seem sad and depressing. Sometimes, you can turn to the news or scroll on your phones and think there is no hope, goodness, or kindness left in this world.
Sometimes, it’s easy to believe that the worst parts of us are the ones that take root.
And then there are times when we surprise one another. Times when the best of us not only comes through but is the beacon of light that pieces through the summer night.
Sometimes, you have to look outside your window long enough to see who needs help getting to their feet.