And the Lord spake unto Anne saying, "Fill up thy tank."
But the hour was not early and the traffic was building. And the trip odometer indicated that only 386 miles had passed since the last infusion of fuel.
"But, Lord," Anne replied. "The last time I ran out of gas the trip odometer read 429 miles. It is only 30 miles to my destination. I will fill up on my way home."
And so Anne undertook her journey. Before long, she arrived at a crossroads of a sorts. To her right, and down the road a ways, lay a fuel supply depot. To her left, and over a causeway between great waters and over several miles of interstate highway, lay her destination, a repository of knowledge and learning where she was studying methods of teaching people to read and to understand what they read.
And, lo, the voice of the Lord came unto Anne a second time saying, "Even now, turn aside and fill up thy tank."
"Yes, Lord," Anne replied. "I have agreed with You. I will fill up on my way home."
And Anne turned left. She journeyed over the causeway between the great waters and she traveled the several miles of interstate highway.
And, lo, it came to pass that as she exited the interstate highway and merged onto the avenue on which her destination, still some miles away, lay, that her faithful vehicle sputtered. Her trip odometer read 400 miles, and so she was befuddled.
"Help, Lord!" Anne cried.
But the voice of the Lord was silent. The hand of His mercy, however, covered over her, and she coasted into the parking lot of a convenience store.
Now a fuel supply depot lay nearby, and Anne set her face unto this haven. She journeyed on foot, yea, crossing avenues of much traffic, to where her salvation lay -- in this case in the form of a gas can. And the merchant within showed her how to remove the plastic insert within -- with barely a roll of the eyes -- and so she filled the can and returned unto her van.
But then her wits failed her and she knew not how to transfer the fuel into the tank of her van. And she tried various means of funneling the fuel into the tank, but succeeded only in spilling some of the precious liquid. Nor did those nearby know how to transfer the fuel into the tank.
And, lo, the Lord suggested that, perhaps, the plastic insert, which lay on the ground, was, in fact a spout -- although one end seemed to be stoppered. And Anne tried various means of attaching the spout to the container, but without success.
And so Anne dialed a lifeline, yea, even Lee, who exhorted her to examine the cap more carefully to see whether it contained a removable disk.
And, lo, as she did so, she noticed that raised lettering, reading "Remove this disk" adorned the cap. Nor were these the only instructions. Plastered prominently on the side of the can were directions for afixing the spout and for transferring the fuel into the tank.
Before the hour was out, Anne had replenished her fuel tank and was on her way to her destination, that veritable repository of knowledge and learning where she was studying methods of teaching people to read and to understand what they read.