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Speeding
Jack took a long look at his
speedometer before slowing down:
73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as
many months. How could a
guy get caught so often? When his
car had slowed to 10 miles an
hour, Jack pulled over, but only
partially. Let the cop worry about
the potential traffic hazard.
Maybe some other car will tweak
his backside with a mirror.
The cop was stepping out of his car,
the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from church? Jack sunk farther into
his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A
Christian cop catching a
guy from his own church. A guy who
happened to be a little eager
to get home after a long day at
the office. A guy he was about
to play golf with
tomorrow.
Jumping out of the car, he approached
a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform. "Hi,
Bob. Fancy meeting you like this.""Hello, Jack." No smile. "Guess you
caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids." "Yeah, I
guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good. "I've seen some long days at the
office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit-just this once."
Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about
roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?" "I know what you
mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct." Ouch.
This was not going in the right direction. Time to change
tactics.
"What'd you clock me at?"
"Seventy-one. Would you sit back
in your car, please?" "Now wait a
minute here, Bob. I checked
as soon as I saw you. I was barely
nudging 65." The lie seemed
to come easier with every ticket.
"Please, Jack, in the car." Flustered, Jack hunched himself through
the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the
dashboard. He was in no rush
to open the window.
The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled
away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever
the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat
near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the
left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two
inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip. "Thanks."
Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice. Bob
returned to his car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the
mirror. Jack unfolded the
sheet of paper. How much was this
one going to cost? Wait a
minute. What was this? Some kind
of joke? Certainly not a ticket.
Jack began to read: "Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She
was six when killed by a car. You guessed
it - a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug
his daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to
have to wait until heaven before I can ever hug her again. A
thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand
times I thought I had.
Maybe I did, but I need to do it
again. Even now. Pray for me. And
be careful. My son is all I have
left. Bob" Jack turned around in time to see
Bob's car pull away and
head down the road. Jack watched
until it disappeared. A full
15 minutes later, he, too, pulled
away and drove slowly home,
praying for forgiveness and
hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.
Life is precious. Handle with
care.

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