I’m collecting short inspirational stories from my close-knit community; here’s mine!
I moved to Northwest Missouri in the middle of the 80s. When I first moved to the country I would frequently comment that the people that were raised in the area took the beautiful surroundings for granted. Every day I would stop and look around and appreciate the charming rolling hills and changing scenery.
That winter I thought the newly fallen snow was breath taking. However I am more of a fan of summer, so I was thrilled when spring had finally decided to visit our home.
At the time, I was very proud of my little Chevy Beretta. When I told my new friends it got good gas mileage, they would say it was cute, but they would ask where I lived. When I told them where my house was, they would just smile and nod their heads.
Enjoying the spring morning I was totally oblivious that it was the time of year that the old timers call ‘The season when country roads lose their bottoms’.
I noticed as I pulled out on to my road that it was a little greasy with mud, but no matter. I felt I was now experienced enough to know to stay in the tracks. I had already learned that if the conditions are a little iffy you want to make sure you stay in the tire tracks or you might take a trip to the ditch.
I thought I was doing such a good job until I turned the corner. As I headed up the first hill, I noticed I was not making any headway and my wheels were just spinning.
With no other options I got out of the car and started walking up to the neighbors. I was wearing ridiculous dress shoes that were appropriate for my office job. However they were no competition for the deep mud. When they answered the door they looked at my shoes and back to my car and the answer was yep, I was high centered.
They dressed up in more appropriate coveralls and boots, and we headed back to my car. They directed me to get in. Obviously I was not going to be of any help with pushing. I rolled down my window and listened for the countdown to push on the accelerator.
After some effort I made enough headway to get up the hill. I was ready to stop and give them my thanks. When I looked back their faces were covered in mud from my wheels spinning up the road. I wanted to apologize but they were frantically smiling and waving me on. I’m not sure if they were just so happy to help or afraid if I stopped I’d be stuck once again.
That day I learned a number of lessons. The neighbors in this area are ready to help even if the job may not be pleasant. There is a reason they are proud of their old rusted out chore trucks. And as personal important note; muck boots are sometimes the best choice for fashionable footwear.
I’d love to hear story. Contact me at kandihughesauthor@gmail.com
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