I just needed a few screws. That’s all. Just a quick trip to Lowe’s, in and out. But life has a way of throwing wrenches into the simplest plans.
As I rolled through the store, I heard it before I felt it—snap. Then suddenly, the right wheel of my chair wobbled, and before I could react, it gave out completely.
I barely caught myself before hitting the ground. A couple of customers glanced over but kept walking. Embarrassment flooded my face as I struggled to adjust. The chair was useless now.
“Hey, you okay?”
I looked up to see a guy in a blue vest, kneeling beside me. His name tag read “Eddie.” Before I could even answer, he was already waving another employee over.
Within minutes, I had three Lowe’s workers around me. One brought out a rolling cart. “Let’s get you sitting somewhere safe,” she said, offering a hand. Another grabbed my busted wheel, turning it over like a mechanic inspecting an engine.
“I think we can fix this,” Eddie said. “Give us a few minutes?”
I wasn’t sure what else to do but nod. They rolled my chair to the back, leaving me perched on the cart like some kind of makeshift throne. I expected them to come back and say, Sorry, nothing we can do. But instead, I heard drills. Saw sparks fly from a welding tool.
Fifteen minutes later, they rolled my chair back out, good as new.
“We reinforced the axle,” one of them said, grinning. “Should hold up better now.”
I ran my hands over the frame, speechless. “I—how much do I owe you?”
Eddie shook his head. “Nothing, man. Just glad to help.”
And then, as I looked at them standing there, something hit me—something I never expected. It was a wave of gratitude so strong it nearly brought tears to my eyes. In that moment, I realized that small acts of kindness can turn a bad day around faster than you’d ever believe.
I’ve been using a wheelchair for a few years now, ever since a car accident left me unable to walk comfortably. It was a tough transition, but I always tried to stay positive. I’ve gotten used to how people look at me, or how they don’t look at me—like in the store, when folks noticed my wheel snapping but kept going. It can feel lonely sometimes, but I’ve also come across some of the best souls in everyday places.
And let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting such kindness at a big-box store. I mean, sure, I expected to find the screws I needed for fixing my kitchen drawer. But I never would have guessed I’d have my wheelchair repaired on the spot. Eddie and the other employees—one named Tessa and the other Manny—literally dropped what they were doing to help a stranger in need.
As I tested out the wheel and rolled around a bit, Eddie stuck by my side, making sure the chair felt right. The reinforced axle made it glide smoother than before. It almost felt better than new.
“Told you we could fix it,” he said with a proud smile.
“Yeah,” I replied, laughing. “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted the folks at Lowe’s.”
Tessa folded her arms, a mock-serious expression on her face. “Hey, we may not be an auto shop, but we’ve got our ways.”
Manny chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Had to dust off the welding tools from the training area. We don’t do major repairs for customers usually, but we’ve got some metalworking supplies in the back.”
