The Good Samaritan

Domestic violence in any form is wrong -- plain and simple! If two people can't get along, there are plenty of options for reducing the strain and anxiety of a dysfunctional relationship. Divorce, separation, counseling, time-outs and so forth. But resorting to violence is an unacceptable option.

This evening as I pulled into the Civic Center bus stop (a drop-off only zone) a 30'ish year old, thin rail of a man with dark hair, sunken eyes that spoke of pain, gaunt expression and disheveled clothing apologetically came to the door of the bus and asked if he could please get on the bus. Before I had time to explain that this was a drop-off zone only, he quickly explained that he was leaving his partner who had, for the third time in as many years, beaten him and punched him in the jaw.

With this new information, I looked at him more intently and saw that the left side of his jaw was puffier than the right and that it was starting to bruise. He said he was desparate to leave the City for a safer place in Marin. What was I to do? I of course let him board the bus in order to assist him in his search for a safe haven.

I finished dropping off the remaining passengers on my bus and by the time we arrived at the Trans-Bay Terminal, we were the only two people on the bus. I pulled the bus to the curb and as I set the brake, I turned to look at the still-seated man. He asked me what the fare to San Rafael was and when I told him, he began searching his pockets and wallet and then began to cry. I could clearly see and feel his pain. My heart ached to apply a soothing balm to his soul.

In an instant, I reflected on the parable of the Good Samaritan who went out of his way to not only rescue a man who had been beaten, robbed and left for dead, but who also provided for this same man's sustenance during his recuperation period. The Good Samaritan was set apart by his compassionate actions. Nowhere in the Bible do we learn anything more about this victim. Nothing is said about his race, gender, political swayings, sexual orientation, religious belief system. Nothing is said about these things because perhaps, just perhaps, they are not important.

It could not have been clearer what it was for me to do. I printed out a San Rafael transfer and handed it to him. I opened my lunch box, took out my ice pack, wrapped it in paper towels and handed it to him. "Here, take this and hold it against your cheek." I then pointed out the location of the northbound bus stop. "The next bus will be here in less than ten minutes."

A grateful man then extended his hand and even without uttering a word, the look in his eyes was clear. Nothing more needed to be said. I stifled a lump in my throat and as my eyes began to moisten I thought, how blessed I have been.