Unexpected things

Some of you know this story, but Geoff does not, and this is for him.

After my first year of graduate school, I moved out to the suburbs. It was safer, quieter, but did require a drive in every day, going through the heart of West Philly. One day, snow came in early, and by the time the morning commute was on-going, it was good and slippery. I saw a car hit the bumper of another and thought, "This is not good." But grad school waits for no one, so I pressed on. The next turn was a double left, and, as always, I took the left-most line. Which would have given me plenty of time to stop, if the driver in the car in the right left-turn lane hadn't opened his door. And although I threw on the brakes and slowed down, unfortunately, I s-l-o-w-l-y pulled next to him, then bent back that car door. 

He accepted that it was totally his fault, but he was a minister in the area and, if his insurance went up, well, it would cost his entire congregation. Was there any way that we could not involve the insurance companies and he could just have one of his members fix my car? He handed me his card and I looked at the damage, which was all body work on a 7-year-old car. I thought, oh, sure, fine. What's the worse that could happen? So an old Honda doesn't get fixed. Life will go on.

Although my dad thought I was some sort of sucker, when I got home, I made some phone calls, and everything got set up for fixing the car. I brought the car in to a part of West Philly I was completely unfamiliar with. Very, very deep city stuff. But it all went well, I picked up the car a week later, and everything looked fine, except they didn't have that side rubber strip stuff in -- I'd have to come back in a week or two, when they got it in. It would take about 10 minutes to put on, I could just wait for them to do it there.

A few weeks later, I got the call. This time I went out by myself, because it was just a ten minute wait. It was one of those glorious spring days, everything was in bloom, the sky was clear. My faith in humanity was restored; it had all worked out nicely. They started to work on my car, and the owner of the garage came over. "Hey, I want to show you something." Uh, me? No, you do not mean me. "Yeah, come over here." Now, this was a very large man. I'm thinking, does anyone even know I'm here? Where is my cell phone? "Come here, I want to show you something," he said again, walking towards the alley on the side of the garage. My mind was racing: is there anyway to not do this? Is this where they'll find my body, two weeks later? I let him lead, thinking, well, if this looks too (more?) sketchy, I'll try to run away (I'm sure that would work.) 

And as I walked into this alley, I saw one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen. He was like a little kid: "Isn't it beautiful? I saw you and knew you would like this." It was fantastic. It was the perfect time of year, everything was in bloom, clearly a labor of love. "I've won a few awards, city garden things and such." I was just taking it in. The stone path, the climbing vines, it was simply wonderful. Never would I have through that a minor car accident would then lead to this little jewel in the middle of the city. 

And my little Grinch heart grew three sizes that day.