My mother and I were riding down the road, just about to pass Ed’s Groceries. Ed was the local grocer that always gave us each a piece of candy as our mother paid for the groceries, but that’s another memory. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, a car wreck. I didn’t see it happen. My mother pulled over.

I had to wait in the car. I’m not sure how old I was, but I remember thinking that this was unusual that I was to stay in the car alone. And looking back, maybe the reason I didn’t see it happen was that I was not tall enough to see out of the car well.

She came back to the car quickly. A woman was hurt. Mother had come back for blankets. We always had blankets in the trunk. I sat in the car waiting, wondering about the woman, wondering why she needed blankets, realizing that my mother had forgotten about where we were going, and had stopped to help, and had given away our blankets to someone that needed them, someone we didn’t even know.

I don’t know if I realized then that my parents taught me by actions more than by words. But I knew my mother was doing something good. And at that moment understood that is what we were supposed to do, stop to help, give people what we can, even if we don’t know them.