Today I went to the car wash with a mission. Two fold mission, I should say. Part one, get that iced over mixture of road grime and salt off my station wagon. Part two, get the girl who runs the car wash to smile.

See, engaging her in conversation has been my objective for the last six months.  I visit that car wash twice a month at least. She has been there every single time. Thus we have had over twelve encounters… and not one has gone in a way that I felt good about.

Not once has she smiled or responded to my attempts to comment on the weather. (Or anything else!)  In fact, the more I try reaching out to her the more disgusted she seems by me. Repelled.  I can feel her anger as she shoves that little car wash token down in my palm.”Thank you!” I say cheerfully. She looks at me with a look that could only be described only as withering and stomps off.  Still, I keep coming back. Hoping that she will be there so we can try again. Holding out for one good encounter. One smile. Something!

Why do I care?

I have asked myself this question too. Usually when I am driving away from the car wash. Many times I have vowed to never again enter that parking lot.  Yet every two weeks I find myself wheeling into the parking lot.  So why do I keep going back? Because I care.

I care because she is sad. It’s written right there all over her face and across her slumped shoulders. I care because she needs God. So I keep going back and trying to connect with someone who is clearly not interested in being connected with me.  Because in the end it has little to do with us, and everything to do with me and God. He always comes back for me, I need to go back for her.

Today though, on Try Number 13, something amazing happened. I pulled up to the automated doors of the car wash and said a prayer. There on the other side, I saw her peering out with a disgruntled look on her face. She raised the doors and began to wave me inside. While trying to drive on to the automatic conveyor belt that pulls the car the wash I noticed she was soaking wet. It would be next to impossible not to be with her job. The temperature was hovering at around twenty. She was shaking…and angry.

I took my token and smiled. She stomped away. End of story. Until, I got to the end of the wash and was ready to pull back onto the highway. There on my seat was a brand new bag of Hot Hands, magical little warming packets that you can put into your pockets to warm up cold extremities. Suddenly it hit me! Take her some Hot Hands! 

I turned the car around. Then went to every door nervously knocking and asking God for courage. The longer I knocked on the door the more scared I got. What if she thinks I am crazy? What if she is calling the police on me right now for trespassing? My mind was running wild with all kinds of worse case scenarios…

Finally she came to the door. By this point I was shaking from the cold and certain that I had made a terrible mistake. “What do you need?” she asked. “Um..Nothing. I just wanted you to have these. I thought you might be cold.” I stammered. She took them and said…nothing. Not a word. But you know what?

She SMILED the most beautiful smile ever!  End of story.