Photo: Snow Storm by Peter Griffin
A few days ago, we had a heavy snowfall, during the afternoon. As I drove from work, I had a couple of near misses with cars skidding to a halt in front of me. My engine then started cutting out. Closer to home, my car lost traction climbing a steep hill, and I ended up blocking traffic on a narrow stretch of road. Nothing I tried could get me moving forwards. There was no let-up in the snow or high winds.
From nowhere, a man with a shovel started digging my wheels out. Others came to help, and soon three people were pushing my car up the hill until I got moving again.
Three more times on the way home, I got stuck in deep snow. Three more times, people came and gave me a push to get me started. What is normally a twenty-minute journey had taken me about two hours. I was completely stressed, and couldn’t wait to get home and close the front door. The thought of driving back to work in the morning didn’t exactly fill me with joy…
It was only later when I reflected on my experiences. Was it really the nightmare journey I’d thought?
I was safe, as was my car. Several groups of perfect strangers had come to my aid, unprompted and got me moving again. They expected no recognition or reward; they’d just seen someone in trouble and gone to help out. I never got the chance to speak to anyone and give them my thanks. Without their intervention, I would’ve had to abandon my car in a dangerous position, and walk home through the snowstorm.
As for the weather – heavy rain during the night cleared the roads, and the sun was shining on my drive to work in the morning.
All in all, I consider myself quite lucky.