My sun visors were shot. Thirteen years old, the fabric looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and ripped through them haphazardly and left pieces of fabric hanging. I’d ignored it for years, but they only got worse over time, so I finally decided to replace them. Not wanting to pay too much, I got a referral from a friend to a local place called Scott’s Trim Shop. When I walked in, their front door was unlocked. “Hello?” I called. Someone came out shortly and when I told him what I needed, he took me back to meet Keith, the man in charge. I showed him the visors and he said he could do it.

“Twenty-five dollars for each of them, so it’ll be $50 altogether. Okay?” he said.
“OK” I said.

The next week, I went to pick them up. The visors had been nicely redone, but they’d waited for my approval before putting them back on. Once they did, I went to pay for it. I pulled a Visa out of my wallet and Keith said, “My machine’s down. I can only take cash or a check until I get it fixed.” I’d left my checkbook at home, knowing (or assuming) I wouldn’t need it since I had my card. And I didn’t have $50 cash on me.

“I don’t have my checkbook with me and I don’t have that much cash with me” I said, unsure what I was going to do. I needed my car in order to go to the bank, but how could I take it when I hadn’t paid for the work?

Keith said, “Go ahead and bring it back to me tomorrow. You look like I can trust you.”
“Really?” I asked. “I was heading to the bank from here anyway.”
“Oh, okay. Then just get the money and bring it back tonight. I trust you.”

I’d never been to this place before and I didn’t know any of the people there. Yet, he decided I was trustworthy. I don’t know what made him think I “looked like he could trust me”, but he did. I wondered if I’d stepped back in time about 70 years when people in a small town knew they could trust everyone.

When I got to the bank, I drove up to the teller and my car died. No explanation, it just died. I heard what sounded like a problem with the transmission as I pulled forward, but I couldn’t tell what it was—I’m no car expert. The gear shift slipped when I tried to change it from Park to Reverse. Same thing moving it to Drive. It didn’t respond to anything I did.

Confused, I tried to see if anything else was wrong. The lights worked. The blinkers were fine. Since I’d run out of ideas, I called my dad for advice, telling him what had happened and what I’d tried. He suggested a few things and I tried them, to no avail. He came out and tried a few things but ended up as perplexed as I was.

I thought I ‘d try turning it off and turning it back on again. When I shut down the engine, it wouldn’t restart. Great. Now what?

Dad called AAA for a tow, since we clearly couldn’t go anywhere. While we waited, I went in the bank and got the money I’d come for originally. I called Keith and told him about the car breaking down and said I could be in the next day. “Ok. I trust you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wow. He doesn’t think I’m trying to rip him off. What a pleasant surprise, I thought.

We had it towed to a garage. They said it had happened just because of the car’s age. They replaced an old part and got it running again. I went back to Scotts’ Repair Shop the next day to pay for it. It was an ordeal, but it worked out in just one day. All because Keith trusted me.

When everything seems to go wrong like it did that day, there are some people who will trust you and give you the benefit of the doubt, even today in the 21st century. What an encouraging thing to learn.