Much has been made in recent weeks of the reflections people are making on the great sacrifice Christ made for us, which manifests itself today in our celebration of his glorious resurrection.

But we cannot lose sight, as we study His great love for us, of His greatest commandment for us: Love one another.

The poet W.H. Auden even took it a step further last century: &8220;We must love one another or die.&8221;

Alone on a dark highway at midnight on Good Friday, I was reminded that such love &8212; in the form of great kindness &8212; can come, when we most need it, from strangers.

The kindness of strangers is not what we have come to rely on these days.

But it saved me in many ways this weekend.

I had swerved to avoid hitting a deer; the overcorrection sent my little sports car into a tailspin that landed me in a ditch on the dark Natchez Trace Parkway, four hours from home and two hours from my destination &8212; somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

I had not passed a single car so far on my trek, and my phone read &8220;no service.&8221;

The crunched car was inoperable, and I was shaken and terrified.

But a swift prayer for help brought headlights around the bend in the road, and when the red car stopped, a kind voice asked, &8220;Do you need help?&8221;

For the next two hours, Michelle &8212; we didn&8217;t even think to exchange names for the first 15 minutes &8212; was my guardian angel, helping me find law enforcement help, waiting with me for the wrecker service to tow the car and driving me to Tupelo so that someone could pick me up.

The entire time she was kind and calm, never letting on that she even considered leaving me alone.

We chatted as if we were old friends, exchanging stories about our boyfriends, our jobs, our backgrounds.

By the time the Park Service ranger met us at the scene of the accident, he asked if we knew each other.

And by the time Michelle dropped me off an a hotel in Tupelo, I felt as if perhaps we were old friends.

It&8217;s not likely I will see her again, but I can&8217;t imagine I will ever forget Michelle or her kindness.

It was not a &8220;random act,&8221; as the popular saying goes.

It was deliberate kindness, and despite what she said it was not just the reciprocity she or anyone else in my situation would hope to find on that dark highway.

I hope that kindness will be something I can return one day &8212; or even every day.

Christ asked us to do this very thing, and too often we limit our kindness and love to those we know &8212; spouses, parents, children, friends.

Even our enemies receive greater attention than the neighbors we don&8217;t know, who might be waiting just beyond the bend in the road.

We must not practice merely &8220;random&8221; acts of kindness; they must be deliberate, and we must live them every day.

Imagine what such a world would look like.

Kerry Whipple

is editor of The Democrat. She can be reached at (601) 445-3541 or by e-mail at

kerry.whipple@natchezdemocrat.com

.