A Fly on the Wall

Sometimes that fly is in a position to see some great things.

It was a small courthouse in an obscure town. Even a GPS has trouble getting folks there without a few wrong turns. It was not a busy court night, nothing big on the calendar, really just traffic tickets and a couple low-level offences.
The guy had LOSER written all over him: rough, rumpled clothing; unkempt, dirty hair; scruffy beard. His face was tired, the sagging eyes suggested a history of alcohol abuse. He came in, met with the prosecutor to see if could make a deal of some kind on his charges and then took his seat, waiting quietly to be called by the judge.
The judge is the epitome of a small-town judge. A godly man, he attempts to administer justice appropriately.  He's a bear of a man, looming large behind the bench in his black robe. He takes each case seriously and deals with each case on its merits.
When the man was called before the judge, the judge noted from the plea agreement that the prosecutor had recommended a low fine as the defendant was a disabled veteran. The judge, a veteran of Vietnam himself, inquired about the man's service and found that he had served there also. The picture became clear to the judge--he was looking at one of the overlooked heroes, one of the many had come home from an ugly and unpopular war and had never recovered from its effects. He noted, on the record, the fact of the service and thanked him for it--probably more recognition than he had when he returned home from the war. Making a decision as good judges do, the magistrate opted to reduce the fine considerably, to an amount that most people can spend without thinking much about. The man thanked the judge for the consideration, and asked for a couple weeks to pay the fine. His check would come the first of the month, until then, he'd be unable to pay.
Until that time, court had been business as usual; but then something unusual happened. A woman in the courtroom got the attention of the bailiff and quietly asked if it would be OK to pay the man's fine. She was given permission to approach the bench, which she did, and handed the judge the money for the fine. She was totally unknown to the defendant; but had heard the dialogue between him and the judge and decided to take an action. The judge was speechless, the defendant stunned; the courtroom came to a complete stop for a moment--several moments, actually.
The lady who had stepped up and paid the fine had to run out the door to compose herself; the defendant had tears in his eyes and his family was in awe; the judge had a lump in his throat and the bailiff suddenly disappeared into the judge's chambers. When court resumed, it was different than a normal court session.  Folks who had driven many miles to have their day in court and were anxious to get on the road homeward were just a bit more patient than normal; fines were paid with smiles; and thanks to the judge, prosecutor, clerk and bailiff were just a bit more frequent, and seemed a bit more heart-felt.
Funny what happens when someone steps up and does the right thing, just because it's the right thing to do. Life changes, and the change is a good one.