Heart pounding, sweat dripping, mind racing, he tears into the driveway, pulls up to the garage and jumps out of his truck. Ten minutes - only ten minutes to empty our home of the important and precious. The rest we may never see again.
An unknown truck follows him into our Black Forest driveway.
"Can I help you?" the driver askes.
"Do I know you?" Bill responds.
"No, I am Bob and this is my daughter Angela (she looks to be about 12). We live in Calhan (a ranching community, 30 miles to the east). We are just passing through and wondered if we could help."
Hmmmm, our dirt road is a cul-de-sac. It is a destination, not a road to someplace else.
Decision... is Bob a good Samaritan? Or? Does Bill trust him?
Because of the girl, he decides yes.
Bill gathers our important papers, medications, and more. Bob and Angela take all the pictures with people in them off our walls and load them into the back of Bill's pick-up. They also grab a few other important looking things, like my old computer. Then they were gone.
Bill never saw them leave.
He never said, "thank you".
"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."