Looking

Years ago I was having a good day. My wife had just been delivered of a healthy baby boy. My latest book was selling well and the postman had delivered a nice royalty check. I had a job I loved, a car that was paid for, and a happy marriage tucked away in a commodious Cape Cod house.

Anyway, I was at the drugstore getting a prescription filled for my wife. The two in front of me were a careworn-looking old farmer and his son of about 12 years of age. The farmer pushed a prescription across the counter for a pain medication. His son had broken his arm. When the pharmacist said, “That’ll be $28,” the farmer counted out a roll of cash totalling $11. “We can’t afford it, son.  You’ll have to make do.” And he pushed the bottle back to the druggist. As they left, I could swear the old man was trying not to cry.

I collected my prescription, paid the man, and left. But as I got in my car, my heart smote me. “Why don’t you buy that boy his pain pills?” I got out of the car, ran back into the drugstore, and looked for the farmer and the boy. They were nowhere to be found.

The druggist said he didn’t know who they were. Out on the street I looked up and down the street, but they were not to be found. I walked around the block, looking in several stores. They were simply gone.

As I drove home, I was sad. Mostly because the Lord had been so good to me and I could have been kind. I had the means to be generous. And I had missed the opportunity.

(Sigh.) I have been looking for that lad for almost 40 years now. I want to tell him I’m sorry. And I’ve tried not to miss such opportunities since.

The Reverend Stephen Crotts is pastor of Village Presbyterian Church in Charlotte Court House, VA. He is also the director of the Carolina Study Center, Inc., a campus ministry, located in Chapel Hill, NC. Pastor Crotts may be reached at carolinastudycenter@msn.com.