Irony Becomes Her

Take the adventure that comes

Serendipity: n. Pulling up to a donut shop on a whim and ending up staying to watch and pray with a smoking, 18-year-old, uninsured skater-chick permit driver after she mows down five newspaper vending stands with her friend's car.

Serendipity came to me and my friend Matt as we set out to tour some sights in the L.A. area during my visit there this week. I hadn't been to a Winchell's Donut House in years, and it sure sounded good as we pulled onto Santa Monica Boulevard from the 405. As we retrieved my purse from the trunk, we heard a deafening, metallic crash. Or, I heard it. I think Matt saw the tail end of it and ran toward the sound. I was a little nonplussed and stood there by his open trunk, in part because I wasn't entirely sure he had the keys and didn't want to lock them in!

The driver, who was alone in the car, was apparently healthy, because she got out and accurately observed that the car was completely "****ed."

I walked up and observed, but no one appeared to be actually doing anything except the driver, who was pretty much in hysterics. She rightly wondered how this would affect her scheduled driving test on Monday. Matt appeared to want to stay and make sure all went as it should with this incident, but I figured that shouldn't keep us from having donuts. I went inside and bought half a dozen assorted.

But there appeared to be a stalemate outside. The girl didn't want to call the police for understandable fear of what might happen to her. We didn't want to call the police, at least not yet, until she agreed to it as well.

What do you tell a girl who repeatedly expresses how afraid she is of what the police will say? "Um, they might say you broke the law by driving without a license, driving too fast, driving without insurance, etc. etc." But all of that was so self-apparent that the only thing left to say was that the way to avoid the most trouble was to be the most straightforward, to call the police, make a report, and do her best to make good with the car owner. Once all this was said several times, it seemed an opportune time to offer to pray with her, and she welcomed the idea. I put my hand on her shoulder and prayed for peace and for a miraculous working out of all the difficult details ahead. Matt prayed for her to know the love God has for us even when we mess up. Tears fell as she agreed with us in the prayer and thanked us for it afterward. I gave her a few hugs in the succeeding hour.

The car's owner was apparently still her friend after he arrived at the scene on a city bus -- but he did quickly need a cigarette after he saw the scene.
The owner made some phone calls, and finally a tow-truck driver arrived -- I still don't know how, because the owner clearly didn't. They began to clear the debris from the area. Matt was given permission to call the police, but they couldn't have cared less. Since no other cars were involved and no public property destroyed, they told him they weren't coming -- just contact the owners of the property. The girl and her friend presumably gave their information to the proprietors of the bistro outside which the racks stood. Matt exchanged phone numbers with her and intended to see if he could get her to come to church.

This story isn't over, and who knows whether I'll ever know the end. But blessing can come in many disguises: even a tortuously mangled newspaper stand.

posted by Lynn @ 10:15 AM