When a Broken Wheelchair Taught Me the Difference Between "Nice" and Real Help. (3-5 Second Read)
Sometimes all it takes is a good scream… and a
few heroic hands to show up at just the right moment.
I met a woman whose wheelchair had broken down
in an alley. She had been stranded there for two whole weeks.
Neighbors had called the police and ambulance
repeatedly, but no one could actually help her. Too many rules. Too many
boundaries. Too many people "not wanting to get involved."
Even the ambulance attendants said they see it every day: people call for help, then move on—never even asking if the person is okay.
They just call, check the box, and leave.
And this is the heartbreaking truth that was
revealed to me in that alley: If the average person won't take two seconds
to ask a dying person if they are okay, will they ever take the time to use the
discernment God gave them to truly think about this problem, or about
their own actions?
This lack of basic courage and thought is the
biggest problem. It's why rules and boundaries become excuses, and it's why she
stayed stranded.
So, she stayed stranded… until I heard her
screaming and crying — and stepped in.
In just two days, I was able to find and get
her a non-motorized chair for immediate mobility. I then contacted a
specialist for the broken, highly valuable motorized one. Unfortunately,
whoever she had previously trusted tried to fix it and made an expensive
mess. The specialist rightly took the damaged chair away, freeing her from
that heavy burden and liability.
And the next day, I got her a new phone.
Every single one of these steps—the
temporary chair, the removal of the broken one, the new phone—gave her the
literal and emotional freedom to leave. Everyone else in the community
wanted her to leave, but did nothing to actually make it possible.
This was key: I was able to find the real
solution, not because I had more resources, but because I brought discernment,
intention, and follow-through where others only offered "nice"
words.
The Hard
Lesson: Compassion Doesn't Mean Enabling. (The Core Message)
As I got closer, I noticed something else: Not
everything she shared added up. Some stories didn't ring true.
That's when I realized the deeper truth: The
people who left her there probably thought they were being “nice”—promising,
saying yes, yes, yes... without ever following through.
They avoided the uncomfortable truth—or said "yes"
to look good or because they were afraid of confrontation. But when we do
this, we actually create more pain than a clear, honest "no."
A hollow "yes" stretches the pain far longer than necessary.
💡 The
Lesson I Carry Forward: Discernment and intention matter more than empty
yeses. When our words and actions align, trust grows.
And that's the kind of space I'm called to
create: a group of us ready to show up with courage, with real
follow-through, and with the intention of creating positive change together.
If this resonates with you… you belong in this
conversation. 🌹
Lots of LOVE, Rose and Friends (Furry and Unseen) 🌹🐾😇
P.S. The alley taught me more about courage and clarity than a thousand "nice" promises ever could.
Comment below and tell me about a time someone said “yes” but didn’t follow through — and bonus points if it involved someone acting like a superhero but forgetting their cape. 🦸♀️
#DiscernmentOverNice #RealHelp #Courage
#FollowThrough #CommunityCare #BootsOnTheGround #CreatingSolutions
#RoseAndFriends
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