The cocky businessman rapidly wound his
way through the traffic in his brand new
Jaguar. Suddenly a brick--seemingly thrown
from the side of the street--bashed into the
side door of that elegant machine.
The man slammed on the brakes, leaped
from the car, and quickly grabbed a kid and
pushed him against a wall. "What was that
all about, punk?" he snarled. "That's a new
car and that brick you just threw at it is going
to cost you or your dad a lot of money!"
The kid was crying. "Please, mister, I'm sorry,
but I didn't know what else to do! I threw the
brick because no one else would stop."
Tears poured down his dirty face as he
pointed to another boy, lying by the sidewalk.
"That's my brother," he said; "He rolled his
wheelchair off the curb and fell in the gutter,
and I can't lift him up. I'm not strong enough.
Please, sir, would you help me get him back
into his wheelchair, 'cause he's too heavy for
me. Then you can do with me whatever you
want about your car."
The businessman suddenly had a lump in his
throat. He lifted the fallen young man back into
the wheelchair and took his handkerchief and
wiped the scrapes and cuts. He found the kid
a coke from a nearby machine.
"Thanks, mister," said the first boy. "Now what
are you going to do to me?" The man just
hugged the kid and said, "Go on, Son. And
bless you."
The fellow never did repair his Jag. He kept
the dent to remind him not to go through life
so fast that someone would have to throw a
brick at him to get his attention.
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