Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth

time in a few months. How could a guy get caught so often? When his car had slowed

to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the

potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The

cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from church? Jack sunk

farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A Christian cop

catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home

after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow. Jumping out

of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this." "Hello, Jack." No smile. "Guess you caught me

red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids." "Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain.

"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit-just

this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef

and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?" "I know what you mean. I also know that you

have a reputation in our precinct." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time

to change tactics. "What'd you clock me at?" "Seventy-one. Would you sit back in your

car, Please?" "Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely

nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket. "Please, Jack, in the

car." Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he

stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by.

Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the

reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on

the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled

down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice. Bob returned to his car

without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper.

How much is this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke?

Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:

Dear Jack,

Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car.

You guessed it - a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man

was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I'm

going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand

times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I

did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful. My son is

all I have left.

Bob

Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack

watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he, too, pulled away and drove

slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he

arrived. Life is precious. Handle with care. Drive safely and carefully. Remember, cars

are not the only thing recalled by their maker.