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It was Saturday afternoon, sunny, hot and breezy so Bev and I thought we wouldtake an impromptu drive out to the mountains, maybe find a hotel and then get anice dinner somewhere. My car was having battery problems so we decided to takeher big van. Since that car has these great big head rests (six of them) that tendto block my rear vision, I decided to lay all the rear seats flat.We packed a cooler with cold drinks and ice (something we never think to do) andhit the road. We got a later start than we would’ve liked but that’s pretty muchSOP with the Beyers. By the time we got to the scenic mountain area of west-central Maryland it was already after 3:00 pm. Bev said that we might have a hardtime finding a hotel and she was right, everyone was booked up. The folly of ourintent was apparent to us and, disappointed, we headed on home.We still had about an hour’s drive ahead of us when, rounding down a steep hill,we were surprised by a lone figure walking along the side of the road. It lookedto be an older woman and she was pushing a bicycle. She was carrying at least fourbags what looked like a tattered shirt wrapped over the top of her ball cap, kindof like a scarf. Her appearance was everything one would expect of a homelessperson and she looked out of place in the middle of farming country. As we droveby she began to jerk her thumb in the classic hitch-hiking style. Since shecouldn’t let go of the handle bar we almost missed the gesture.“She needs a lift.” Bev said. We continued on down the hill and I concentrated onkeeping the big car on track through the S-curves.“You’re kidding” I said.“I think we should turn around” said Bev“Hmmm.” That’s all I said and we drove on. As it was, there were no turn-outs orside roads present. After a couple of miles I was able to turn into a farm lane.“We’re going back, then?” Bev asked.“Yup”I had been thinking of that scripture where Jesus said that when he was hungrysomeone fed him, when he was sick someone visited, when he was naked someoneclothed him. I was imagining him saying to me; “When I was hitch hiking, pushingmy bike and carrying a heavy load on a hot day, you didn’t stop to pick me up.”“That was you, Jesus? I thought that was an old lady!”When we got back to where we could see her trundling down the hill we pulled intoa nearby drive and waited. There was no shoulder to the road. She must haverecognized our car or figured out what we were doing because when she saw us shebegan jogging down the road, her over loaded bags swinging and her bike wobblingback and forth.She was a skinny little thing, wearing too-big athletic clothes; sweat pants,sneakers, socks, sweat shirt and ball cap. The sweat shirt said “Messiah College”.Her sun glasses were as big as scuba goggles and her skin was sun browned andwrinkled, like and old life guard’s. In spite of the heat and her recent exertionshe was as dry as a Methodist’s pantry.As it turned out that she liked to be called Sherri and she had been riding herbike from Hagerstown, a good 20 miles behind us, when she got a flat tire. She’dbeen having a lot of flats lately and someone told her that there was a Wal-Mart
 
10 miles on up the road in Frederick, where she might get them to fix her bike(seeing as how she had bought it recently from another Wal-Mart). She said thatshe had been praying hard for someone to come and pick her up. She blessed andthanking us both for coming through.We stowed her bike easily in the back of the van, where there was plenty of roomwith the seats already down. She said the bike was new but it looked a little beatup. It was the same brand as my first bike, a Roadmaster, except hers was thegirl’s version. The rear wheel looked bent. We opened up one of the middle seatsfor her and she was surprised and grateful as we handed her an ice cold Diet CokePlus (with vitamins!) from the cooler. We cranked up the A/C and headed off tofind Wal-Mart.As we drove she told us, in a genteel Southern draw, that she was originally fromRichmond Virginia and had raised two daughters, both now in their thirties. Shenow had grandsons and granddaughters and they lived in different parts of thecountry. For the past eleven years she had been riding her bikes (she’s beenthrough quite a few) across the country, from Florida to California and up intoCanada, preaching God’s word. Raised a Methodist, she was now Pentecostal bychoice and a speaker of tongues. Standing on street corners in small towns and bigcities she preached a sermon of salvation from eternal damnation through theacceptance of Christ’s love.She rarely slept indoors and tried to coordinate her travels with the seasons,going south in wintertime. She asked about Baltimore and Washington where she said(amazingly!) that she felt a lot of concern for all the homeless people that sheheard lived there. Many of the homeless that she met on her travels seemed to beso hopeless and this saddened her.She was very much interested in the two of us, our jobs, our family and ourfaith, but in a sensitive and genuine way. She never pried or preached. She saidthat she might visit the church we attend outside of DC and asked when we heldservices. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to see her some day.We parked at Wal-Mart and helped with her bags as she chained up the bike. I askedher if she was OK with money, if she even had enough for a new bicycle inner tube.She hemmed and hawed a bit so before she could answer I asked if it was alright ifwe could contribute to her ministry. I gave her some cash and she was obviouslygrateful. She then surprised me by asking suddenly if this was something that Iwould like for her to repay some day. Humbled, I told her no, that it was part ofmy tithe, since it was obvious that she took Jesus’ commission to heart.As Bev and I drove on down the highway, we couldn’t help but chuckle. Godsometimes has a very dry sense of humor. What a coincidence. that on the spur ofthe moment, we decided to take a day trip to western Maryland, in the big van(which we never take on road trips), with the seats down, spare cash in ourpockets and a cooler of cold drinks in back. How unfortunate for us that therewere no hotel vacancies in the area (most probably because of our own chronictardiness) which resulted in our having to drive down that one particular road, sofar from home. How gallant of us, to grudgingly turn around and help someone more‘unfortunate’ than we were.Somehow this older woman is able to travel across this huge land, cheerfullyspreading the Good News, carrying everything she owns on her back. Eleven years ofpedaling up mountains and through deserts, and she is as clean and bright as a newpenny, sharp as a tack. It was obvious that God looks out for her and I bet shewasn’t the least bit surprised when we came back for her. We were just two moresupporting actors stepping on to her God-directed stage.
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