Relying on the kindness of strangers

I am no stranger to stress...

After hanging 24 pew arrangements, placing two large altar pieces and pinning all personal flowers on mothers, fathers, etc, I was approached by the mother of the groom in a panic. It seems that her corsage had to be redone, 20 minutes before the ceremony when I should be working on the cake, because it was the same size as the grandmother's corsage. She was sure this was a mistake, because after all, the mother of the groom should have a larger corsage than a mere grandmother, right? I hurriedly made another corsage in the stairwell of the church while doing Lamaze breathing, whispering "It's OK" to myself and imagining someone stroking my face.

I am no stranger to tough jobs involving tools...

I spent a good month of a summer in Washington on top of a two-story, and in parts a three-story, house scraping off wood shingles and re-roofing my bishop's house. While trying to maintain my balance I had to keep the pneumatic nail gun from sliding down the steep incline and landing on my children gathering shingles below. And I didn't shoot myself even once.

I am no stranger to impromptu situations...

I have no veterinary training to speak of. It's a miracle I have kept our snake alive so long. But I was once called upon to help with castrating a neighbor's horse. I was asked to wait for the vet and point him to the horse. However, the vet's assistant was unable to come so I had to help. With my feet planted firmly on the sleeping horse's back and with the help of some serious boy scout knots and loops, I had to hold the horse's leg aloft by pulling with all my strength on this rope contraption the vet had rigged up. With very little ceremony and much blood, we did the job and the neighbors were happy. But not the horse.

This morning as I drove my boys around the corner to pick up a friend for carpool, I heard the air in my front tire gushing out against the wheel well. After parking on the street in front of the friend's house and securing a new ride to school for everyone, I assessed my situation.
Yesterday I had arranged for a coworker to take my shift today. The stress level in my home had reached a very high level. I had one child with a science project due and the other with a very involved essay to finish. I'm doing the flowers for a wedding on Friday and I need to pick up and condition the flowers today. I felt like I just needed this extra day to gear up. Thankfully, my tire went flat this morning, on my day off, and not on our 400+ mile trip camping last week.
An elderly gentleman came out of the house next door to our carpool friend and offered help. He and his brother are retired from Hill Air Force Base, he is 68 and lives with his 91 year old mother, he's a farming man, he doesn't like foreign cars and his cousin was a mechanic. As you can see, he was well qualified to help me. We'll call him Mr. Hill. He had tools I didn't realize I was missing in order to change a tire. I am in need of a non-wimpy jack and a t-bar lug nut loosener (I'm not sure that is the official name.) When he was only able to loosen two lug nuts, he spotted a gentleman getting out of his Land Rover down the street and walked over to ask him for help.
This younger man was wearing a baseball hat, which he tipped to me when he came closer to my car, and made me very aware of my situation. Not only was I a damsel in distress, but I was in my pajama bottoms, Rosie O'Donnell oversized t-shirt and no bra, with unbrushed teeth and hair. Mr. Land Rover used all his muscle to loosen the stubborn lug nuts. He just lost 27 pounds with Herbal Life, needed to look at my engine, and mentioned that NASCAR cars only use 4 or 5 lug nuts and no fancy tire lock.
Mr. Land Rover and Mr. Hill discussed foreign cars and the economy intermittently while trying to pry the tire loose from it's position, which it stubbornly clung to. In the meantime, I had called for roadside assistance, after being reminded I had it by an under-his-breath comment made by Mr. Hill.
(It's amazing to me that I continue to quickly jump to fix it all myself without asking for help when usually I am inept and the help is sitting and waiting for me to ask. )
Eventually Mr. Pop-A-Lock arrived on the scene to finish the job we had started. He had the secret knowledge that Mitsubishi cars tend to rust behind the tire, and hitting a flat tire very hard with a mallet will loosen it enough to help ease the tire away from the car. Lesson learned: hitting something very hard with a hammer solves problems.
Everyone was thanked and went on their way, but not before I got to see Mr. Hill's prize winning photo of a bald eagle--he's been a wildlife photographer for over 40 years, you know. (I have that face that says "Tell me your life story, and anything else that is on your mind.")

Through this experience, I learned that I am not as prepared as I thought I was. I learned that older kind gentleman don't want your help, even if they are wheezing as they try to jack up a car, and are very adamant that their way is right, usually involving breaking something to get the desired result (a cotter pin lost it's life because of male ego). I learned training and experience is more effective than willingness to help. I was reminded that people are good, and they are happy to help when they can. I was also reminded that I am blessed and watched over every day.