A moment in my life that I can recall thinking that I will never forget was last summer when I decided to venture off to California for a week. I had saved up a bunch of money in my bank accout and had also brought a large quantity of cash with me for gas and other expenses. But by the time I had arrived at a gas station in Nevada, I realized that I had left my debit card at home... Gas cash was running low, and I had about $175 for the rest of the way to my destination, Marina Del Rey, where my hotel was (no debit card for the hotel room, either...). By my calculations, gas should've barely lasted me until I reached my hotel, if I didn't take any detours. However, being that I am a female with horrible directional recources, that didn't happen. Two wrong exits later, I was beginning to panick. My parents had located my debit card and read me the numbers, but nowhere would accept that form of payment without some sort of identification proving that was my debit card. It was time for gas. I pulled in somewhere in Los Angeles attempting to use my debit card numbers, and that was a no go. I was SOL. Driving away, I was thinking of what to do until I was shipped a new debit card. Right as I began thinking that I should find a Walmart so I could sleep, as it was one in the morning, I turned into another gas station. I don't know what I was thinking, in fact, I don't even know that I thought about what I was doing as I turned the steering wheel. I pulled in to the fill up and sat there for a second. I didn't know what I was doing. Nowhere was going to accept my card numbers. Nowhere. But, I went inside to ask if they would. The cashier was a younger, blonde lady. I explained my situation to her and she listened with intent, wide, brown eyes. Right as I ended my story, I could feel tears well up in my eyes as I realized that she wasn't going to accept my card numbers. And right then, the cashier turned around to her purse and grabbed her wallet. I remember that specific, understanding, kind, gracious look on her face as she told me that her husband is a doctor, and she doesn't need the money, she just works there to pass the time. She put twenty dollars in my tank. Considering I drove a '97 Dodge Neon, twenty dollars was more than enough to get to my destination. I gave her a hug, the type of a hug you would give your mother after she smashed a spider when you are little. As I drove off the gas station lot, I had this feeling, like a feeling I had never had before, that I had just seen an angel. I began to cry.
