Be That One

[su_dropcap style=”flat”]Y[/su_dropcap]OU’LL LIKELY FIGURE OUT the ending of this story long before I did.

Several years ago, I was in Newark, NJ for an afternoon meeting, and had just parked my car in a parking lot when I caught the eye of a man who appeared to be somewhat distressed. He quickly walked over to me, explaining that someone had stolen the battery from his car, and he needed another $10 to buy a new battery so he could get home. He was holding jumper cables, so I figured he must have initially thought his battery was dead. He looked stuck.

So, I gave him $10 and was happy to help out.

There’s a sucker born every minute.”

          – Attributed (incorrectly) to P. T. Barnum, the American showman in the 1800s.

I remember just a few things from history class in high school. One of them was the day our teacher, an enthusiastic man with black curly hair, brought goldfish into the classroom when we were discussing the 1950’s. There were a lot of important events we discussed about the decade, the least of which was the goldfish-swallowing craze.

But, one of the things I vividly remember (actually, I can see it RIGHT NOW as this is being written) was our teacher reaching into the bowl, grabbing a live goldfish and dangling the squirming fish above his mouth – before letting it fall. And then him looking at the class with his cheeks puffed out, before…. actually swallowing the fish!

Keep in mind, this was in rural Indiana. Either sushi wasn’t yet invented, or it hadn’t made its way across the cornfields.

I also remember a story about Thomas Jefferson, one of our Founding Fathers.

Jefferson and several other men were traveling by horseback through rural northern Virginia during a winter evening. It was a cold and harsh evening, and the horsemen were riding single-file along the trail, and approaching the point of crossing a stream on their horses.

As they approached the stream, they could see an elderly man in the dark alongside the trail, who stared silently as each of the men on horseback passed him by. As the last rider in the group was passing, the old man looked into the eyes of the horseman and asked for a ride across, explaining that there didn’t appear to be any other way to cross without getting wet.

This last horseman, was of course Thomas Jefferson, who happily agrees to provide a ride. Jefferson dismounts his horse and helps the nearly freezing old man onto the horse. Not only does Jefferson take the man across the river, but also continues riding some distance to take the old man to his destination.

As Jefferson is helping the old man down from the horse, Jefferson asks him why he waited until the very last horseman was passing before asking for help, as surely that left only one remaining chance of being taken across the stream.

The old man, who did not recognize Jefferson, explained that he’d seen a lot in life, and that when he looked into the faces of the other men, he saw little empathy and therefore felt his request would fall on deaf ears.

But when he looked into the face of Jefferson, he saw kindness, compassion and empathy.

That story resonated with me, and made me always want to have that kind of face. To be that one.

Of course sometimes it doesn’t work out, or you get tricked. But the good outcomes probably greatly outweigh the costs. That’s what I tell myself.

So, fast forward back to the future. It was exactly one week after I helped the man with the stolen battery, when I was back in Newark for a follow-up meeting and parked in the same parking lot.

And I swear… to… you… as I was walking through the parking lot the SAME man who I’d given money to the prior week, ALSO happens to be there at the same time. He sees me, nods his head to get my attention and walks over to me smiling.

You may have guessed that the man recognized me, insisted on paying me back and that we’ve been friends ever since.

But that’s not what happened.

Instead, he walks up to me and says, “Excuse me sir. Somebody just stole the battery from my car, and I just need $10 more so I can buy a new one.”

Here’s how I look at it. I may be an easy mark, but that’s a small cost for having a kind, compassionate (and perhaps naive) face.

At fifty, every man has the face he deserves.” George Orwell, English author and critic in the early 1900s.”