Drunk girl..!

The doorbell rang, a watchman stood outside my door. It was two in the morning. “Drunk girl on the staircase sir!” he said. I called out to my daughter to come with me. We walked to the building near the gate. She was sprawled on the first floor landing, my daughter went to her and slowly shook her, “Come, get up,” she whispered, “We’ll help you up the stairs!” The girl moaned and brought out on the floor.
I rang the doorbells of the two residents of the floor. One was a mother of a girl who had just got married, I was sure her motherly feelings would come to our help, I thought. “Take her away from here!” shouted her sardar husband, “We don’t want such filth here! Call the police!”
”Call the police for a small slip up of having one too many?” I asked flabbergasted.
With great difficulty we lifted her up and with my daughter pushing and me half carrying her we lumbered up the stairs watched through the half closed door by husband and wife. I opened the door with a key I had found in her purse, cleaned out a chair and placed her on it.
We closed the door and moved out.
The next day she called, “I am so embarrassed,” she said, “I am so sorry! It has never happened to me before!” I chuckled on the phone and said, “It happens to the best of us!”
Yes it happens to the best of us; we think we are beyond mistakes, and we make a terrible one. We think we can do no wrong and we do something terribly wrong.
From what I gathered somebody at the party had deliberately mixed her drinks, and she not being used to such had passed out, but to her neighbours she was a cheap girl.
I wonder how many times same husband had had one too many and his wife had quietly tucked him into bed; I had seen the fellow high quite often.
But it is so easy to pass judgement on someone else, isn’t it?
As I think back on the episode I wonder what made me lift her up and take her to her room, what made my daughter also gently help?
“Dad,” she said later, “It could have been me in that same situation!”
Yes, it could have been me. It could be you, and when we see somebody fall, whether on the staircase or in life, we need to help, because it could very well be us the next time. My thoughts go to the parable of the Good Samaritan: Why did he stop? Did he see himself lying on the road? Are those the neighbours we are supposed to look for and help? Are we like those neighbors on the staircase, passing judgement?
Somewhere up in heaven, I feel Jesus smiling, not at me, but at that drunk girl..!
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Drunk girl..!

The doorbell rang, a watchman stood outside my door. It was two in the morning. Drunk girl on the staircase sir! he said. I called out to my daughter to come with me. We walked to the building near the gate. She was sprawled on the first floor landing, my daughter went to her and slowly shook her, Come, get up, she whispered, Well help you up the stairs! The girl moaned and brought out on the floor. I rang the doorbells of the two residents of the floor. One was a mother of a girl who had just got married, I was sure her motherly feelings would come to our help, I thought. Take her away from here! shouted her sardar husband, We dont want such filth here! Call the police! Call the police for a small slip up of having one too many? I asked flabbergasted. With great difficulty we lifted her up and with my daughter pushing and me half carrying her we lumbered up the stairs watched through the half closed door by husband and wife. I opened the door with a key I had found in her purse, cleaned out a chair and placed her on it. We closed the door and moved out. The next day she called, I am so embarrassed, she said, I am so sorry! It has never happened to me before! I chuckled on the phone and said, It happens to the best of us! Yes it happens to the best of us; we think we are beyond mistakes, and we make a terrible one. We think we can do no wrong and we do something terribly wrong. From what I gathered somebody at the party had deliberately mixed her drinks, and she not being used to such had passed out, but to her neighbours she was a cheap girl. I wonder how many times same husband had had one too many and his wife had quietly tucked him into bed; I had seen the fellow high quite often. But it is so easy to pass judgement on someone else, isnt it? As I think back on the episode I wonder what made me lift her up and take her to her room, what made my daughter also gently help? Dad, she said later, It could have been me in that same situation! Yes, it could have been me. It could be you, and when we see somebody fall, whether on the staircase or in life, we need to help, because it could very well be us the next time. My thoughts go to the parable of the Good Samaritan: Why did he stop? Did he see himself lying on the road? Are those the neighbours we are supposed to look for and help? Are we like those neighbors on the staircase, passing judgement? Somewhere up in heaven, I feel Jesus smiling, not at me, but at that drunk girl..! [email protected]