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How The Kindness of Two Strangers Restored My Faith in Humanity
I hate asking for help. It’s just part of who I am.
Maybe it’s a strong sense of self-reliance. Maybe it’s taking pride in the independence I worked so hard to regain after the accident which rendered me a quadriplegic. Maybe it’s not wanting to be in someone else’s debt.
Maybe it’s outright stubbornness.
Regardless, there are situations in which I have no choice but to accept the help of others.
And sometimes, that help redefines my outlook on humanity.
In 2012, I was a student at the University of Arizona.
One of the many things I loved about U of A was the number of restaurants on and near campus. There was such a variety of foods, it was like a cafeteria at the U.N.
One afternoon, I met a friend at a restaurant on East University Blvd (just west of campus) for a late lunch. It wasn’t far, and frankly, I needed the exercise, so I pushed there in my wheelchair, leaving my car in the 2nd Street Garage on the north side of campus.
