The Brick

The cocky businessman rapidly wound his way through the traffic in his brand new Jaguar. Suddenly a brick–seemingly thrown from the side of the street–bashed into the side door of that elegant machine,

The man slammed on the brakes, leaped from the car, and quickly grabbed a kid and pushed him against a wall. “What was that all about, punk?” he snarled. “That’s a new car and that brick you just threw at it is going to cost you or your dad a lot of money!”

The kid was crying. “Please, mister, I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do! I threw the brick because no one else would stop.”

Tears poured down his dirty face as he pointed to another boy, lying by the sidewalk. “That’s my brother,” he said; “He rolled his wheelchair off the curb and fell in the gutter, and I can’t lift him up. I’m not strong enough. Please, sir, would you help me get him back into his wheelchair, ‘cause he’s too heavy for me. Then you can do with me whatever you want about your car.”

The businessman suddenly had a lump in his throat. He lifted the fallen young man back into the wheelchair and took his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts. He found the kid a coke from a nearby machine.

“Thanks, mister,” said the first boy. “Now what are you going to do to me?” The man just hugged the kid and said, “Go on, Son. And bless you’

The fellow never did repair his Jag. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone would have to throw a brick at him to get his attention.