A stranger offers a ride after ice storm

Once again my faith in humanity has been restored. A few days after winter decided to coat my world with ice, my husband walked up to the store for a gallon of milk. Someone he didn’t even know gave him a ride back home.
It happens every time there is even a minor disaster. People come out of the woodwork to help other people. Strangers do whatever is needed to help others. A person doesn’t even need to ask.
The first year we lived in town I was shocked when some guy on a tractor motioned me out of the way while I was shoveling out the driveway. He proceeded to plow the rest of the snow to the side of the driveway before disappearing with a wave. This has happened several times over the years with different people driving different vehicles. I have appreciated it each and every time. Only once have I recognized the person behind the wheel.
I think this willingness to help others is not limited to angels bearing snow shovels. Many organizations benefit from legions of volunteers doing countless hours of unpaid work. Many of the volunteers do it because someone asked or because they saw a need and fulfilled it. Many of them do it simply because they can.
I used to equate charity with pity; not realizing that charity is a way for people to pay back some of the good they have been given. I believed this because every time I was the beneficiary of charity it was an unpleasant experience.
Not so any more. I am fortunate enough to be able to help out on occasion. My only requirement is that nobody is asked to be grateful.
If I had an icebreaker I would plow out all the sidewalks around town and maybe even a few driveways. But since I don’t I will pray for warmer weather to melt enough of the ice so that I can finally get out of the driveway before I succumb to the consequences of prolonged cabin fever. The temperature is still below freezing as I write this and there is still a thick coating of ice on the driveway. I am starting to go stir crazy.
I have been listening to people scraping the snow and ice away from parking lots. I listen to my neighbor’s grandkids clearing off her sidewalks. The scraping is not a grating sound; it is a sound of caring. It is the sound of people helping other people. It is the sound of people repaying some of the good they have been given.
We tend to forget how helpful people are until some stranger unexpectedly does something nice. If you’re the one who gave my husband a ride on a wintry day, please accept my thanks.[[In-content Ad]]