Swept from the corners of my mind…
As a young farm wife, life was busy. Once, during harvest season, I was hurrying to the city for an appointment, dust pluming behind my old Pontiac. Halfway to the highway, the car slowed suddenly. Pulling to the side I hopped out to check the problem—the front passenger tire was pancaked.
I’ve always been independent, and this was before cell phones, so I dug through the massive trunk, hauled out the full-sized spare, and changed it in just a few minutes. A few extra yanks on the wrench and I was back on the road.
About eight kilometres later, at highway speeds, the car suddenly pulled hard to the right and came to a stop.
Annoyed, I hopped out, assuming the spare had also gone flat.
Then I saw it.
My tire, complete with hub, was sitting in the ditch, quivering slightly as if it had only recently arrived.
The entire wheel had fallen off.
Now I was truly mad. Needing help, I hiked to a nearby farmyard and called 911-Hubby for a rescue.
The appointment was cancelled. Later, while rattling around the living room questioning my life choices, I noticed a Bible on the shelf. I picked it up, opened it at random, and landed in Romans, where I read something along the lines of:
“Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character…”
And I laughed.
Looking heavenward, I said, “God, don’t you think I’m enough of a character already? You can ease up on the suffering. I don’t think the world could handle me with any more character development.”
If you know me, you may agree that that prayer was ignored.
That was not the last time a wheel deserted me.
One day my husband and I were hauling a trailer home behind his old half ton. As we slowed for the corner where we turned off the highway onto our road, yes, the very same gravel road, movement caught my eye.
A trailer tire sped past us on the shoulder, rolled gracefully into the ditch, and settled like a bird into a nest.
My husband calmly pulled us safely off the road.
I informed him that he was now developing character too. He didn’t find the idea nearly as amusing as I did.
It’s been decades since I was abandoned by a wheel, but the trauma remains.
Last week I was mowing my giant yard with my beloved zero-turn mower, happily planning how I would tackle the remaining sections and thinking this might be the last mow of the season. The old Land Pride is sturdy, hardworking, and usually reliable. I was making excellent time when I turned near the loading chute and the mower stopped as abruptly as if I’d hit a boulder.
Crawling off (I am much less sprightly than in the past) I discovered that a rear wheel was lying in the grass as though it had always belonged there.
The lug nuts had worked loose, chewing up the studs and wheel holes before finally releasing the wheel from its moorings.
Just like that, four hours of mowing became hours of phone calls looking for parts and hired muscle. Since the mower is old, replacement parts are not exactly sitting on shelves. One local quote topped a thousand dollars. A combination of Amazon, a rim-building company in Saskatoon, and some creative problem-solving cut the cost roughly in half.
My ManSon did everything he could while he was home, and now we’re waiting for the rebuilt rim so I can get the wheel mounted and finally finish the job.
I suppose determination to finish what you’ve started counts as perseverance.
And if Romans is correct, perseverance builds character.
At this point, though, I’d be perfectly happy if the Almighty found another method of character building.
Because if one more wheel falls off something I own, I suspect the character being developed won’t be the kind St Paul had in mind.
Cathy Bendle finds humour in the quirks of everyday life, from training teachers to dodging housework. When not writing, she’s either laughing at her pets, frantically Googling for her work assignments, or playing on her iPad. Her column appears every other Wednesday.
