About ten years ago, a young and very successful executive named Dave was traveling down a Denver neighborhood street.
He was going a bit too fast in his sleek, black, turbo Bentley, which he bought only two months ago.
He was watching for kids darting out from between the cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.
As his car passed, no child darted out, but a brick sailed out and smashed into the Bentley’s shiny black side door!
SCREECH…!!! Brakes slammed!
Gears ground into reverse, and tires madly spun the Bentley back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown.
Dave jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid and pushed him up against a parked car.
He shouted at the boy, “What was that all about! Just what the heck are you doing?!”
Building up a head of steam, he went on. “That’s my new Bentley. That brick is going you cost a lot of money! What were you thinking?”
“Please, mister, please, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!” pleaded the youngster.
“I threw the brick for help because no one else would stop!”
Tears were dripping down the boy’s chin as he pointed around the parked car.
“It’s my brother, mister,” he said. “He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can’t lift him up.”
Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, “Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He’s hurt and he’s too heavy for me.”
Moved beyond words, the young man tried desperately to swallow the swelling lump in his throat.
Straining, he lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was going to be OK.
He then watched the youngster push his brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
It was a long walk back to the sleek, black, shining, turbo Bentley – a long and slow walk.
Dave never did fix the dent in the side door of his new car.
He kept the damage to remind him not to live his life in a way that someone never again has to throw a brick for help to get his attention.