I like the stories my grandpa told. You never knew if they were completely true or how it would end.
My grandpa grew up in a farming community, the middle son of a farmer. Anytime he could afford to get a new pickup was a special occassion and always swelled his head with a bit more pride than it should have.
One of these times, not long after he’d moved back and was working as a pastor’s assistant, he saw a hitchhiker and felt the need to give the man a ride.
Now, the way my grandpa described this man was such that you could almost smell him yourself. So filthy it was almost dripping off of him. And my grandpa just didn’t want the man smelling up his “new” truck.
But God had a different idea, so my grandpa turned around and went back to get him. Grandpa asked where he was heading and the offered to take him to a truck stop halfway, he accepted and climbed in.
As they drove, they spoke about Church and God and it didn’t take long for my grandpa to realize this man knew a lot more than he did.
They reached the truck stop and grandpa watched the man walk through the door and go inside.
A mile down the road, he decided that it wouldn’t be too much for him to take the man all the way to his destination, so he turned around and went back.
Inside the little store, he looked around and didn’t see the man anywhere. He asked a few of the farmers who were there for their morning coffee if they had seen where he went. They shocked my grandpa when they said that he was the first person to come in the door in over half an hour!
An angel helping teach my grandpa some humility perhaps?