Photo: Oil Search New Guinea.
This week, weave a tale in which helping others is the subject.
There was a man down in the street.
An ordinary man I was sure.
He was struggling to get himself upright.
He was covered in dirt, from top to bottom.
I had this thought that someone had rolled him in the mud, for there were bits stuck to his shirt.
He was supporting himself by his right arm, his left arm looked a bit useless, and I suspected he may have broken it.
I heard a voice say he was on the kerb when a car knocked him and send him into the gutter and down among the debris that was lying there.
The lady beside me said he’d tumbled over and over and she feared he must be dead.
But he wasn’t, he was rising as if life was winning over what could have been.
People had gathered around, one man had an arm around his shoulders and was helping him to lie back down as in the distance an ambulance could be heard.
They lay him down and rolled him carefully into the recovery position.
When I got close, I could hear his breathing. It was heavy as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
He couldn’t speak, but rather gurgled some incoherent sounds as those closest to him began to fear the worst.
The man was surrounded by so many caring souls; each one hoping help, beyond their concern, would soon be on hand.
Around the far corner came the ambulance, sirens blaring, lights flashing, there was a sense of relief among those closely gathered.
The ambos, experienced folk that they are took in the situation, the man and his injuries. Expertly they examined him, all the time talking to him in the most calming of ways.
I felt the hand of reassurance settle on us all as we watched them go about their jobs.
They treated the man with such dignity, I felt proud to be there in witness.
Then the police arrived and asked for witnesses, gathered them around and determined whom they needed to talk to first.
Meanwhile, the ambos in the most gentle of ways loaded the man into their vehicle and headed off to the hospital.
The crowd I was part of milled around a while as witness statements were taken and words were exchanged over what had happened, and then we dispersed and went on our day’s journey leaving behind a few scuff marks in the gutter where once there had been a man, an ordinary man as it turned out.