Don't Talk to Strangers

Of life's lessons, this is one I wish I hadn't learned. I grew up in the 50s—in other words, safer times. You could walk to school, go out at night, ask strangers for help. We were not cautious. Life was good. Times have changed.

I gave a stranded stranger a ride. She had a gazillion packages and a box of pampers. It was raining. Her car broke down, she said. Could I give her a lift? Otherwise, she would have to walk. Sure, I said and drove her into the city.

The next day Bank of America called to tell me there was suspicious activity on my debit card. The lady had stolen it, and my driver's license, and gone on a spending spree. I still haven't figured out how she did it. I called the local police who told me to call the St. Louis Police who told me I had to file a police report.

The detective was unbelievably nice. Actually, all three of them were. It seems I was robbed by a professional who had a very long record, a habit to support, a parole violation, and a lot of people looking for her.

I filed my report, shook the detective's hand, and left with this advice: Do not, EVER, give a stranger a ride. I am passing that wisdom along to you.

How to feel grateful: Think about Joplin

I live in Missouri, the heart of the Midwest. It seems to me that every other minute a rash of severe thunderstorms hits this state, spawns tornadoes, drops golf-ball-size hail, and just generally wreaks destruction. I spend a lot of time watching local news to keep track of the weather. On more than one occasion, I have hightailed it for the bathroom with a flashlight, transistor radio, and book and sat on the floor for a long time.

I watch the news in horror, feeling that at any moment I could turn into Dorothy and be whisked away to some place I don't want to go. Yet, scary as it is, it all seemed a little surreal ... until last night.

According to the National Weather Service, the tornado that killed 116 people in Joplin, Missouri, was the single deadliest twister in this country since 1953, with winds estimated at 198 miles per hour. Joplin is 247 miles from St. Louis. That really isn't very far. These people are fellow Missourians, neighbors, potential friends.

A town leveled and 116 people killed. What more could it possibly take to feel grateful every single day?