After I finished college, I couldn't find a job in Los Angeles. At last I had to move to Las Vegas but left my family behind. I missed them all week, and I went home on most weekends to see them. I often rented a car because I would often have lots of problems on the way to Los Angeles or to Las Vegas if I drove my poor car.
One time I decided to save money, and I drove my car. It got to California, but on the way back to Vegas it was broken. I didn't know what I should do. Then a middle-aged man drove up. He put in some coolant and repaired my car. He made it start soon.
I gave him the $12 in my wallet, and he said he would use it for the next car. Then I knew that he was a mechanic who drove up and down the highway each weekend to help the drivers in trouble.
Now fifteen years has passed, but I still think about what a great man he is.
