Walking Daniel

When I started this blog, the goal was simple: help motivate others to walk for transportation. I also hoped that as interest in the topic grew, I could devote some of my posts to helping others while still focusing on the walking topic. I would get sponsors. I would connect with a really cool organization called Charity Miles, and see how we could work together (I've started using their app and I love it. More on this later). I would write about Walk for the Water, an organization that raises awareness and funds for people in developing countries who walk an average of 3.7 miles one way to get clean water. 

There I go with my big dreams again. Between my stepdaughter's upcoming graduation, the end of the school year, work travel, deadlines and more, it's been nearly a month since I took time to sit and write about anything, much less take time to add a philanthropic touch to my otherwise fluffy blog about walking to work.

So the universe decided to conk me on the head yesterday, as it often does when I need a reminder of what is truly important. I was home, folding laundry, watching back-to-back episodes of House Hunters International on HGTV, when my husband Tim came in from running errands, soaked in sweat (it's suddenly about 117 degrees in Austin), and bounded into the kitchen to pour water, eyes shining. It's a look I know well.

Tim was in helping mode.

For those of you who don't know Tim, he lives in helping mode. He's a modern day Good Samaritan. He is happiest when he is helping someone in need. It's not unusual at all for Tim to be awake before the garbage truck arrives, putting frozen Gatorade on top of the trash can for the garbage men to enjoy as they're doing work that 99% of us would never consider doing. 

In the past week alone, Tim dropped everything to help my parents move, fixed a broken outdoor light at my parent's new house, handled massive amounts of heavy lifting, and helped me escape jail time by negotiating a forgotten speeding ticket in a small Texas town. And this was all done by Tuesday! From there, he helped facilitate the sale of a used car owned by our dear friend from Brazil to a man from India. I didn't witness any of this face to face, but just overhearing the phone conversations was like being a fly on the wall to some pretty complicated United Nations negotiations. There was a lot of loud, slow talking. It was hilarious, but it was Tim in full on helping mode.

And just yesterday morning, I found Tim outside with the man from India in a scene I know too well: Hood up, public radio blaring, crap laying around every which direction, and Tim patiently teaching the driver how to change oil, or put on brake pads, or fix a flywheel. This is how Tim rolls. And I love it.

After helping our new friend from India, Tim went to run errands and was on his way back home when he discovered a young woman with a flat tire a few blocks from our house. He came home for tools, bounded into the kitchen to fetch cold water, and took off. This is a pretty typical Saturday at the Arndt house.

Yesterday, Tim's need to help trickled down to the next generation. While Tim was off changing the flat, my stepson Matthew came home from spending the morning with his girlfriend. As they pulled up to our house, Matthew noticed a man, a woman and a young child standing beside a stroller. The tire on the back of the stroller was broken, and the family stood there in what appeared to be a significant pickle. The man asked Matthew if he spoke Spanish, and Matthew answered yes, and the next thing you know, Matthew was launched into helping mode.

By this time of day, it was seriously pushing 100 degrees outside. Matthew came inside, bounded into the kitchen to fetch water for the family, and immediately asked for Tim, knowing this kind of scene was right up Tim's alley. 

With Tim gone, I felt a little like a triage nurse, so I stepped in to offer help. Except my contribution is typically to interview the people and learn about them while Tim or Matthew do the manly work. I know, it's sexist, but I'm not the handiest lady in the world.

Matthew went to the garage to locate tires to try to fix the stroller (a discussion on the things we have in our garage is a different topic altogether), and I went outside to meet the family. I'm not exactly certain of the relationship between the man and the woman. The woman may be the wife, or she may be the grandmother; it was hard to tell. They were sweaty and appeared tired, yet they were all smiles.

The little boy is named Daniel, and the father introduced him in both the Spanish and English pronunciation. Daniel has a thick head of beautiful dark hair and huge brown eyes, and he hid behind the mother/grandmother's legs, peering out and smiling shyly. I fell in love immediately.

Through broken English and my limited Spanish, which is comprised of a lot of dramatic adjectives -- "Hot! Dangerous! Cold! Beautiful!"  -- I was able to get a basic lowdown of what this family does to get around. 

For starters, they don't own a car. Now, I write about walking for transportation, right? I write about how great it was for me to sell my car so I can walk to my office in the morning.  But I don't have a 3 year-old boy. When I take the bus after work, it's because I can't find a Car2Go nearby, or my Tim is busy and can't pick me up. I have never been in a situation where I had to walk several miles for an errand in 100-degree heat, much less do it with a child in tow.

This family lives in East Austin. They use the stroller to cart Daniel around when his legs tire from walking. The importance of that stroller on their day-to-day lives is significant.  While Matthew tinkered around with the tire, this sweet family drank ice water, expressed gratitude over and over, and the little boy entertained himself by rolling the spare tire around on the street.

There is more to this story than I understand at this point. We are not entirely sure that this family has a place to live. Daniel's father is doing what he can to help his family, and that despite his situation, he clings to a faith where he states that he is "one hundred percent" certain that God exists. I was so moved by this sweet family. They are doing the best that they can in what is likely a somewhat desperate situation. 

This family walks for transportation because they have no other choice. And they do it with as much grace as they can. In no point in our interaction did this family ask us for a handout. They simply broke down on the side of the road - just like the affluent girl in the new Ford that my husband helped - and we happened to be there to offer up a little help.

While Matthew was working on the stroller that ended up being irreparable, Tim came home and suggested that I post a message on Facebook to see if we could get a used stroller from our friends in Austin. In less than 24 hours, help arrived in the form of a jogging stroller, gently used and perfect for this situation. What's really cool about this story is that when I posted the message, several people shared my post, and the family who offered up their stroller is currently living in Brazil (they spend their summers there), so help arrived from thousands of miles away. They happen to have a spare stroller at their house in Austin, so today's we'll coordinate picking up it so Daniel has some new wheels. I'm so proud to have so many friends with huge hearts! 

Today, I'm more aware of how wealthy most of us are, and while life brings all of us certain setbacks, there are always others who can benefit from our help. I can't help but think that when I walk to work next week, I will do it with a raised level of awareness that there are many who walk because they have no other choice. 

It's no wonder that when he's helping, Tim looks his happiest. He often says that when he helps, he's doing it selfishly, because doing something for others makes him feel good. If that's the case, I'm happy I married a selfish man, and that he's teaching his children that the best gift you can give yourself is to help someone in need.