Snow Angels
A heart appears, when you least expect it
The other day, when yet another foot of snow fell on the area, as the family prepared to head outside and begin shoveling the driveway and sidewalks, I heard the sound of a snowblower, and it was heading up our driveway.
That would be our neighbor, who has traveled to our path and cleaned our driveway from snow, many times, over many years. And I began to think of the other snow angels in my life. Those who showed up, when I needed them the most.
Like the time when I was a single Mom, in those early years I barely had enough money to pay the heating bill, much less pay someone to plow out the driveway. I would wake up as early as I could to begin shoveling the driveway before the kids headed out to school and I to work. And yet, sometimes, during the night, a snow angel would appear and I would wake up to a driveway, all plowed.
At the time I was overwhelmed with everything that was going on in my life and I don’t know if I ever properly thanked those who took pity on me. Sometimes, I didn’t even know who it was. It was a mystery and a gift. A gift to a young mom who barely had enough to put gas in the car, who was over worked, tired and feeling lost and depressed, as she marched through each day.
And so, here is my thank you. Thank you to all of those who took the time and energy to help another human soul. May you know that with each offer of your hand, with each silent thing you did, to improve the day or moment of another person’s life is remembered with thanks and gratitude. I am so grateful for those who have helped me through some of the hardest days of my life, grateful to my neighbor who cleared the driveway and grateful to all of those who have been there throughout the years.
You know who you are.
Do you have any “snow angel” stories to tell?
Facing Fifty 
Great story Lori! Many years ago, I was living in a downtown area of Kansas City. I was young and basicly on my own for the first time. Right down my street was a convent where a group of Catholic Nuns lived.
One evening I was in the neighborhood cafe eating a bowl of soup. One of the elderly Nuns was in there and asked me if that was all I was having. That doesn’t seem like a proper supper for a young man! she said. I have to admit being young, I felt a little annoyed that a stranger would try to lecture me.
Later that week when I would return from work, I started finding food on my doorstep. Pies, plates of sandwiches, even casseroles! Always with a note to place the dishes back on my porch, where they were secretly picked up. I knew it was the Nuns that were doing it, but they would never admit it, and I didn’t want to embaress them by saying anything. I certainly felt bad about being annoyed earlier. This went on for a few months until I moved.
I did leave a note in their mailbox, that said, Thanks for the proper supper. I bet the elderly Nun smiled at that!
That’s a great story too Jack! I think the gestures that are done and given anonymously can be the most powerful. I loved that you knew it was from them – and that you accepted the gift with such dignity and gratitude. You made their day, as much as they made yours. Love that!!! Thanks for sharing.