The winter of 2008-2009 was a terrible, cold, snowy winter and I was helplessly ill. We were scraping each day into the best series of livable moments that we could, and that was all we could do.
We had a snowstorm every week, always several inches or more. After each snow,
our walkway and driveway were mysteriously shoveled clear, almost the minute it stopped snowing. Nobody had called to discuss this, or notified us in any way that this was going to happen.
We finally saw who was doing it–a friend from the neighborhood and church, sometimes with one of his kids. We thanked him dearly and he shrugged and said, “Well, it needed to be done”.
Now that I’m sick again, we don’t go away much, but we came home a few weeks ago from a being away for a few days, and as we drove toward home we saw that there was a lot of snow on the ground—several heavy, wet inches. We were worrying about shoveling the driveway and walkway so we could get into the house. I was exhausted (it doesn’t take much these days), and it was late.
As we came around the corner we saw in the headlights that the driveway and walkway were neatly shoveled, clear and dry. Three years had passed between the two winters but once again our friend quietly did what needed to be done. And we were so grateful.