In a world often focused on the individual, I recently had a countercultural experience on a road trip with my family. We had embarked on our first ever road trip: my husband and I and the four kids, aged 12, 10, eight and five. Full of optimism and adventure, we were on our way to Carnarvon Gorge, a beautiful, unspoiled national park in the middle of Queensland. It being such an isolated destination, we allowed ourselves three days for the journey out there.
We had spent months preparing, booking accommodation and planning the route, and our first stop was a small country town called Chinchilla. Its claim to fame is the enormous watermelon that sits in the middle of town and a free children’s water park surrounded by native parklands.
This was simply an overnight stop for us. A blip on the radar. A photo opportunity at the big watermelon and a splash in the water park for the kids after a long drive from Brisbane. But what happened at our motel has ensured that this small town of 7,000 people will forever stay in our memories.
The motel we stayed in was cosy and homey, perfect for a stopover on the way to our final destination. We arrived mid-afternoon, saw the sights, had a good night’s sleep and planned to check out early the next morning.
The day dawned and we started the frantic and often noisy pack-up process. Our car was packed to the rooftop with our luggage and we were also towing a camper trailer full of gear. Needless to say, there were multiple trips to the car, with doors slamming and bags being thrown on pathways.
In among the chaos, I walked to the front desk to settle the bill and apologise to the owner for my noisy children. The pleasant-looking middle-aged man at the desk was very professional in his manner. So imagine my surprise as he said to me: “Your account’s been settled.” I’m sure I appeared confused and flustered as I replied: “No, I haven’t paid. That’s what I’m here to do.”
His response left me speechless. “A gentleman was in here earlier and he likes to help people out. He saw that you were travelling with young children and he acknowledged how hard that is, so he paid for your accommodation. You owe nothing for the room you stayed in.”
I think my response was, “Pardon?” or perhaps “What?” As my children ran around the foyer, desperate to get back on the road, I stood in that motel reception not knowing what to say. I was dumbfounded at a stranger’s random act of kindness but I was also profoundly touched. I knew a “thank you” was inadequate, but it was all I had.
My husband and I spent the rest of our road trip trying to work out who the mysterious man was who had paid our bill. Had he heard my children playing outside the day before or, worse yet, had he seen and heard our chaotic and rather intense pack-up experience on the morning of our departure? Or had he just seen two tired parents and decided to help us out?
We suspect the “gentleman” who had “seen” our children was possibly the owner of the motel himself and he simply led us to believe it was someone else so he could remain anonymous. We will never know.
As I left that day, the motel owner gave me a copy of the bill. It is in the glove compartment of my car and it reads: “There has been no charge for your stay.”
I’ll never throw that bill away for two reasons: first, I love remembering and telling this story to whoever will listen and, second, it reminds me to look for opportunities to help, care for and encourage my fellow human beings. This simple act of kindness by a stranger truly changed my life.
