A small family of three


When I was quite young, back in the very early 70’s, I hitchhiked with a friend; Diana (a self proclaimed native princess from New Jersey)  all about the western states.     One  chilly afternoon found us on a deserted highway somewhere near Santa Fe.  Walking for hours, we  waved our thumb towards the occasional traffic.  The sky was getting darker, rain clouds building up.  Figuring that we were going to have to find someway to keep ourselves warm and dry, we settled into the top of a roadside ditch, pulling out our plastic parkas, putting on our warmest clothes.  “Maybe”, we said, ” if we just sleep through the night we will be okay by morning.”    As we were sitting, a pickup drove past, then, stopped and backed up to us.  Jumping up, we ran to the side of the truck and tugged open the passenger door.  A really big guy was in there; really big, with a smile that was even bigger.  “Jump on up in”  he hollered to us.  We looked at each other, eyebrows raised, then, with  a  mutual shrug, jumped on up in.

And headed down the road.  His music blared, and he sang along happily.  I noticed that his truck was equipped with a hand brake, and a few other gadgets I did not understand.  Seeing me looking, he turned down the music, and explained that he had lost the use of his legs in an accident years back.  Life would never stop this man, he was destined to move forward every day!   We eagerly conversed, riding through the storm, he with a great deal of interest, us with a sense of freeing relief, snuggled warm and safe in this giants cab.

This man, this stranger, took us to his home that night, fed us fried potatoes, coffee, and gave us a place to sleep, for no other reason, than friendship and the joy of giving.

Early in the morning he woke us up, apologizing for the early hours, and said he needed to show us something before dropping us at our next exit.  Piling back into the truck, we drove into the morning, stopping on a bluff, overlooking the city, and there watched, while sipping from his thermos of coffee,  enthralled, the sun rising with a glorious light, growing brighter with color and degree, until day had officially broken.

We were quiet, the three of us for the rest of the trip out to the main highway, us two women, continuing our journey, he, our new never  seen again brother, content.  We three had created a small family of the moment.  And all was complete.

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Tilly Evan Jones

“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.” ~Mary Oliver

Lost Creek

Old West Lore, Old West Leather, Chuckwagons, and More

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