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One cold Sunday morning in 1965, when I was a theological student in Leeds and preaching 30 miles north of my college, my fiancee and I were travelling on my Honda 90. We were inadequately attired for a particularly cold morning. Somewhere up the A1 the bike ran out of petrol. We stood at the side of road shaking with cold and not sure what to do. Suddenly a passing car stopped just past us. The driver got out, popped his boot, took out a gallon can of petrol and poured it in my tank without saying a single word. He put the tank back in his boot and drove off. We stood there open-mouthed and stunned with gratitude. To this day we're tempted to think it was an angel.