Conversations with the Divine

I remember I was parked in front of a gas station in my old Ford Tempo- an inherited car.

I had pulled up to one of those quarter machines for vacuuming out your car. This was back in the days when I really didn’t have a whole lot of money and I’d already combed my car for loose change under the seats hoping to have enough to vacuum my car out. I’d managed to score a few quarters, and you would have thought I’d won the lottery.

I must tell you, my car was really dirty.

Just as I just slid my prized quarters into the machine to start vacuuming, I noticed a homeless-looking man sitting just over the hill.

He couldn’t have been more than 10 or 15 feet from me. He sat there quietly, with his brown paper bag next to him, a book resting on his lap. I was of course peeking back over my shoulder as I began to vacuum. I was a little paranoid.

I was going as fast as I could with that suction hose. I could feel the pressure of time ticking down on me, sweat dripping down my face. I was going like an Olympic Sprinter only to come to a screetching halt… my time had ran out. “Oh God- I’ve still got half a car to go.

A man’s voice behind me said, “You run out of money?

Startled, I replied, “Yea.

Well, down to your left. There’s a quarter on the ground.

Sure enough, there it was. A quarter shining at me from the ground. I picked it up and skipped back over to the machine, yelling back, “Thank you!