The Flashing Lights in My Rear-View Mirror

The sight of neon red lights flashing in the car’s rear-view mirror is enough to make even the strongest of stomachs queasy.

As the police car pulls up, I admit that my initial thought is whether fleeing is an option. But, as I come to my senses, I assess what I could possibly have done wrong—how fast was I driving, did I come to a full stop, did I signal as I swerved into the other lane, and how can I get my seatbelt buckled without the officer noticing . . . to, finally, how much is this going to cost me?

But that Thursday afternoon, as I sighted the flashing red lights, I could’ve leapt for joy.

We were en route to the airport, where I was to catch a flight for a speaking engagement. We were but a few miles short of our destination; traffic was smooth and, being that I hate the feel of sweaty palms and a heart beating faster than the clock ticks as I nervously scrutinize the long snaking lines at the airport, I’ve become a stickler for punctuality. We were right on schedule, even with some time to spare.

Until . . . it happened.

Driving south on the 400 Highway, just as my husband was beginning to change lanes toward the exit indicating Pearson International Airport, I noticed something dangerously obstructing the road. “Watch out!” I yelled, just as we bumpily sped over a stray tire. My husband skillfully veered our van to the shoulder of this busy highway, just as we came to a rocky stop, with a badly ripped, flat tire.

My eyes were fixated on the dashboard clock as I dialled CAA, only to be informed that the wait for assistance could be up to 45 minutes! The moments to my looming flight were dangerously escaping. My pulse was quickly rising and my mind was in a frenzy to come up with a practical alternative, but to no avail.

The airport was so close, yet it was so far away and unachievable.

And that was when I sighted those red neon flashes coming from behind our van.

“Do you think, maybe . . .” I heard my voice faltering and then growing more assertive. “When he comes to your window, I’m going to ask the police officer to drive me to the airport!”

I did. And surprisingly, Officer Aaron agreed. He even carried my suitcases.

I’ve arrived at the airport many times, but this was the first time with a police escort. As Officer Aaron opened the back door, which was locked from the inside, the realization of why these car doors don’t open by themselves hit me hard. The car that usually transports alleged criminals was now at my personal service. The officer whom I usually dread to see at my car’s window was now my hero and savior.

And that was when I imagined how so soon there will come a time when we will be able to appreciate a whole new dimension in every person and every situation. Now we may view an individual as so difficult, unappealing and abrasive, or a situation as so trying and spelling only impending doom. But there will come a time when we will suddenly be able to perceive a deeper, truer perspective. We will see beyond his rough externality to the beauty of his inner potential, beyond his outside crudeness to the special sensitive soul within. We will palpably perceive the inner goodness and integrity in every person and in every situation.

The time is close.

“They shall beat their swords into ploughshares.”

And the very car that is used to transport criminals will be transformed into a car that is simply doing a random act of kindness.