A Moment of Time

It was a cold, blustery day in our Black Hills. It was not a good day for "man or beast", but unfortunately we can not choose the weather when medical appointments beckon.

Bob and I drove up to Rapid City, about an hour of drive time. The doctor's offices are in a large, sterile cement building located at the top of a windy hill overlooking Rapid City. After the visit we left the clinic to do other chores that are not do-able in small-town Hot Springs.

What a shock! Our car would not start. Dead battery time. This was an experience neither of us ever had during our lengthy lifetimes, and one definitely not on our bucket lists.

Bob braved the chilling winds to check under the hood. "It's the battery all right."

He dug in the glove box and came up with the insurance information. This company guaranteed to service your car no matter the place or time. We went back into the clinic to use their phone.

"What do you need?" asked the receptionist.

"Dead battery", said Bob. "We would like to use your phone to call our insurance company."

"What good will that be?" was the instant response from the young woman behind the desk. "I'll call maintenance. Have a seat over there."

Within minutes a pleasant looking older gentleman arrived, bearing gifts of jumper cables. We all trudged out into the searing winds and within another minute the car was running. The maintenance man disappeared as swiftly as he had arrived, back into the "who knows where" of the antiseptic corridors of the medical building.

That was that! No insurance, no waiting, no inconvenience, no cost! Back in the day this type of courtesy was not uncommon. But today? What a treat! What an affirmation that kindness is not dead. There was a dead battery, but there was also a considerate receptionist at a busy desk and an on-the-spot maintenance man with handy jumper cables. Both took the time to help two strangers on a gray, gusty day. Somehow the day no longer seemed so cold or bleak.

Kindness and courtesy are not dead in the largest city in the Black Hills of South Dakota.