LIFE IN A PERFECT WORLD!

Philadelphia is truly the city of brotherly love and I can attest to
that fact. I am a stay at home mom with four children, who lives on the
Main Line. I was attending a conference, for three very long days and
evenings in Philadelphia, last week. Each time I attempted to find a
parking garage or my car, I became frustrated and confused. I felt like
a child who was being spun around with a blindfold and then told to
locate the rear end of the donkey and pin on the tail. While this may
not make sense to those of you who have a sense of direction or a GPS,
it certainly makes sense to me because I possess neither. When the
conference ended one evening at about 9:00 PM, I headed for the lot
that I thought contained my car. My car wasn’t there. As I made square
circles around and around the city streets, my scary saga began. It was
dark and I was becoming acutely aware of my lacking navigational skills
and the growing number of Philadelphia’s after dark people and their
activities. Before I reached panic mode, I went for help.

I walked into one of Philadelphia’s many historical buildings and
met George, working behind a desk. I told him, “I can’t find my
garage.” George saw my bewilderment and sweet man that he is, offered
to walk with me and find it. Because I had been around the buildings so
many times in the past few days, my perception of what was familiar and
the north-south and east-west concepts had evaporated. George and I
walked and walked and the more questions that George asked, the more
puzzled I got! I looked at my watch. It was almost 10:30 PM.

When George suggested that we seek the help of someone named Juan, I
knew I was in big trouble. George introduced me to Juan. Juan asked me
questions that were similar to the ones that George had asked me
earlier. When I told him that I had left my parking ticket in my car
along with my pepper spray, he donned his stocking cap and coat. He
told me that he would help me find the elusive lot and my car. Juan and
I began another journey around the city, with stops that included each
and every garage in the area. We finally got to the entrance of a
garage that maybe, just maybe, looked familiar. I could not remember
from which day or which trip around the block, I had seen it. Hopeful
and guilty for having taken so much of his time, I thanked Juan and
headed up to the 3rd floor, where I was bowled over because my car
wasn’t to be seen. Since I knew that Juan had left, my anxiety level
sky rocketed for the umpteenth time. I looked at my watch. It was after
midnight. I went back to the street level and I was astounded to find
Juan leaning against a pole, waiting for me. “Not the right lot?” he
asked. ‘”Nope,” I said and off we went again. I was experiencing total
brain freeze by then and just walked along with Juan like a dog walks
on a leash with his master. As I walked, I realized that I had reached
the end of my rope, or leash as more appropriately stated.

I realized that my thoughts were filled with an appreciation for
having encountered these men. As I replayed the events of the evening,
I realized that I had met two angels. They weren’t very successful
angels at that point but they were still angels. Ultimately, Juan did
find my garage. This time he went with me to the third floor, “just in
case.” I think he was afraid that I would keel over, if my car and I
weren’t reunited soon. When we got off on the third floor, what to my
wondering eyes did appear, but my big black Suburban which,
extinguished, my fear. I thanked and hugged my new best friend for all
of his help. Just like George, Juan refused to accept a tip.

These two men exuded the exceptional qualities that define our
city’s “Brotherly Love.” They were truly angels to me that night and I
will never forget their kindness. As I got in my car and made a few
more wrong turns and went back around, one last time, a thought came to
me. “What goes around, comes around” and around and around and around!
I love hearing about “Philadelphia’s Brotherly Love” but it means so
much more to me now because I experienced it first hand. George and
Juan are testimony to the fact that Philadelphians are caring, kind and
generous people.