On Friday, we went to bed watching the snow fall as Winter Storm Jonas arrived for a 24-hour visit. He took his leave on Saturday afternoon, after adding nearly a foot of extra insulation for Mother Earth’s wintry sojourn.
Later that afternoon as I cooked lasagna, Charlie shoveled two tire tracks down the gravel drive. Not so much because we were stir crazy but because he knew it would help speed up the work of Sunday’s predicted sunshine (and we could then drive off the hill, of course).
Hard work, that. So imagine my surprise when I glanced out the window to see not only Charlie but a young man — a neighbor from the next street — shoveling together. Michael had seen Charlie shoveling and came up to help. In fact, he’d been helping other neighbors at the corner shovel out when he noticed Charlie laboring on our hill.
Kindness is such a marvelous thing, and I am grateful for this young man, who moved here about the same time we did. He bent his back to help a stranger — cheerfully, purposefully, and for no other reason than because he was happy to do so. Oh, there is kindness in this place; I know it. I saw it in his face, and I recognized it in his actions.