Ram Dass said, “We’re all just walking each other home.” My friend, Pamela Chappell, wrote a song based on the quotation.

On my way to the remote Buddhist Sangha for the weekly meditation, my van bottomed out in one of the ginormous mud puddles. Two wheels were up in the air, and water was up to the top of my fender. Two young women in a bright yellow jeep pull up, and one calls to me, “We will be right back and get you out. We have to go get a tow rope!”

Too far off the beaten path for satellite to locate me, I was still on the phone with Road Service when the jeep came back.

What motivates someone to help a total stranger? 

I am not talking about dropping a bill in the bucket as someone is ringing the bell, letting someone pull out in busy traffic, or buying a flock of geese for a family in a village in Africa. These are all worthy acts of kindness, but this was not that—picture throwing off your good shirt, stepping out of your good shoes, wading into foot-and-a-half deep muddy water and getting down on your hands and knees. 

“I go to a place near here where jeeps do off-roading in the mud flats. I don’t participate. I have too much money in my jeep for that. But when they get stuck, I pull them out.” Bonnie explained as she drove my vehicle to high ground where I could leave it and go to meditation.

“I am sorry we got your van dirty!” she called as they drove off.

They were capable—yes—but more than that: they were willing. I would guess you can easily understand why I was touched to tears by the compassionate action of these sisters!

Later, sharing my gratitude on a local issue social media site, I spotted a one line message: “Does anyone know a woman named Blah Blah here? I need to get in touch with her.” 

I responded. “I know her. She is a colleague/writer friend of mine. I have her cell phone number. Send me a private message and I will let her know to get in touch with you.” 

This morning, as I was preparing to participate online in a global meditation and prayer time for peace in the middle east with James Twyman via Dr. Mary Jo Bullbrook, my phone rang. It was my writer friend.

“Thank you! I don’t do much on Facebook. I don’t even have internet here. That woman’s husband had found my credit card. I did not even know I had lost it. I had left it at the ATM.”

The signature line on my email is by Mother Teresa: “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”

Tens of thousands were joined in a vision of peace. I kept hearing Pamela singing, “We’re all just walking each other home.” Maybe I need to change my signature line.