When I was a kid, maybe six or seven, a man stopped his car on the side of the parkway and helped my mother change a tire. It was a long time ago, long before cell phones. We were in an awkward position. The shoulder was narrow, and the ground sloped down away from the road.
I don’t know who he was. He was just a guy who stopped to help, and I never saw him again. But I remember something about him. He wouldn’t take the reward my mother offered him. He just shook his head and said that she could help somebody else some day. And he smiled at me. I was included in the deal.