One shady late evening as my Mother, sisters, and I were walking back
from a wedding, we encountered one of the wedding guests. She was an
energetic, spirited, older lady who favored giving young children rides in her
motorized wheelchair. She had another use for it to, dancing across the
dance floor aboard it with everyone else. She was really the grandmother
of a friend's friend; so we hardly knew this lady.
While walking across the dusty dirt road we encountered her, and she
eagerly offered my two younger sisters a ride back to our car in her
motorized wheelchair. The young girls openly pleaded for mom to say yes
and mom reluctantly obliged. After all, this lady appeared very determined
and mom hesitantly gave in despite hearing distressing tales of the
Excitedly, the woman lifted the youngest, onto her lap. Then, she
cheerfully started speeding down the dusty dirt road. Daring and fearless,
the young girl urged her to continue: "Faster, faster!" she gasped eagerly. The
grinning lady exclaimed "OK, then hold on!" Quickly, she increased the
speed as the motorized wheelchair began awkwardly driving down the
steep dirt hill slightly tipping sideways. "Faster, faster!" she still exclaimed.
Uh... it doesn't go any faster... the lady said. Quickly, rolling down the chair
continued its speedy pace.
We could hardly keep up with its pace, so my mother anxiously began
pacing toward the chair jogging anxiously as she tried to convince the lady
to slow it down, It seemed they would tip at any minute.
Finally, she slurred to a stop and prepared to hoist my middle sister on for the last
half of the dirt road, Mom tried to tell her we were fine and certainly did not
need another ride, but the spirited little girl had anticipated it as a joy
ride begged for her turn. Being young, she did not associate any risk with it.
With the commotion of the lady assuring her it would not be an
inconvenience and her second oldest child begging to go, she gave in; but preceded to order the lady to slow down this time. So Mom watched anxiously as her kid hoisted herself on and grasped the sides of the wheelchair and the lady-
this time, a little slower drove off. this , not feeling this was fair imitated
the example of her younger sister exclaimed "faster, faster!" but this was the second
time parents had become very frustrated with her, including my mom's
So she explained "your mom won't let me" and rode on. I am sure
my mother had felt no more relief at that wedding then when we finally
arrived at our destination- "the car."
Mom gave in and regretted it later. If that chair would have spilled over it
would not have been humorous and I warn you, "the best way back to your
car is always on feet" Free shortcuts are not always the safest way back.