THE WHEELCHAIR AND THE MANHOLE COVER

One of my nursing instructors was a lady I much admired. She was such a dignified lady. Her husband was crude and kind of a jerk, even though he was a professional. He had been in a nursing home for several months at this time. One day I turned a corner and there they were, Mrs. L. desperately trying to move Mr. L.'s wheelchair out of the middle of the street. She had taken him for an outing down the street near the nursing home. The wheels of the chair were caught in a manhole cover and she was not strong enough to get it free. About the time I parked and got to them, the street sweeper truck came along. The driver parked that huge machine and came running to help. Meanwhile Mr. L. had slid down in his chair to a point where he was almost out of it. The driver got him under the arms and I got his knees and we tried to pull him back into the chair (Mr. L. was a fairly small man). It didn't work because Mr. L. stiffened his back and legs. I said, "George, bend your butt!" He did, and we did the job. After receiving many thanks, the driver left. Mr. L. took my hand and said to me, "You are my angel!" I liked him better for some reason after that. Mrs. L., ever the lady, thanked me every time she saw me after that. I enjoy helping people anyway, but the timing then was perfect. Other cars passed them by, she said. How pitiful is that?