The needle on the fuel gauge hovered above empty, adding to Matt Taylor's already mounting troubles. The old pickup truck needed gas, and with prices the way they were, it would be expensive. Fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel, Matt did some math. He'd never been very good at numbers, but even a twenty-four-year-old high school dropout like himself could do the arithmetic. With all the unpaid bills stacking up at home, he knew he was nearing the empty mark, himself.
Matt prayed he would have enough gas to reach his destination. He only had five dollars left in his wallet, and desperately needed a job. A firm believer in Providence, Matt had poured over the help wanted section of the newspaper that morning, praying for guidance. An ad for a salesman at the local car dealership had caught his attention. It touted "no experience necessary" -- three very important words to Matt. Even better, Matt knew the owner of the dealership, and believed God had pointed him to this job.
Parking his vehicle outside the showroom, Matt removed his Stetson to whisper a prayer. The truck door screeched open as he climbed out. New Mexico felt good at this time of year -- not too hot and not too cold. Matt enjoyed the fresh air, letting the breeze swirl around him as he strode inside.
Light jazz played faintly in the background, as Matt scanned the showroom for a familiar face. A bald man took notice of Matt, and waved a friendly greeting from across the room. Matt returned his wave. He hoped the man would remember him from church.
Dressed in dark slacks and a white business shirt, Jerry Westhaven put down the clipboard he had been holding, and came to Matt with an outstretched hand and a broad smile. "Matt Taylor, I never expected to see you here! Don't tell me you're finally replacing that old pickup truck!"
"No, sir, I'm here about the job," Matt said, feeling a little self-conscious about the black T-shirt and worn jeans he had put on that morning. With a sinking heart, Matt noticed the other salesman dressed as sharply as Jerry.
"Job?" Jerry looked puzzled, and then a flash of understanding crossed his face. "Matt, I'm sorry, but that job was filled only an hour ago!"
His spirits fell, and Matt hoped he didn't appear as disappointed as he felt. "Oh, sorry for bothering you." As he awkwardly turned to leave, he saw Jerry open his wallet and take out two twenty dollar bills.
"Here," Jerry said, offering the money a little clumsily, "I'd like you have this."
Longingly staring at the bills, Matt realized what Jerry offered -- a handout -- charity to someone less fortunate than himself. "I'm not here to beg for anything," Matt said, feeling the heat of shame creep up his neck.
"I know you're not," Jerry said, thrusting the money into Matt's hip pocket. "I just have a feeling you might need this more than I do at the moment."
Matt knew he had no right to turn down the money, especially when he needed it so badly. Even so, it stung to accept charity, though it came from someone as friendly as Jerry Westhaven.
"Come to think of it," Jerry said thoughtfully, "I heard the garden nursery across the street might be looking for help. You could check there for work."
"Across the street?" Matt tried to be hopeful, but knew a job there wouldn't be very likely. He knew nothing of plants, and even less about what it took to keep them alive. Nodding, Matt gratefully shook Jerry's hand. "Thanks, I'll look into it."
Before Jerry had a chance to ask how things were going at home, Matt made a polite excuse and left the dealership. From the way Jerry had greeted him, Matt knew the man easily remembered him from church. And if he'd remembered, then questions would be asked. They always were, ever since their pastor had spoken to the congregation about his problems. All that fuss had been before he'd lost his job. In his present condition, as much as Matt knew people meant well, he knew they could also bring trouble.
