Just over a month ago, our area was bombarded by yet another blizzard. Due to obligations I had at my college campus the next morning, I drove up to the big city the day before, and stayed with a kind friend in her apartment. After being transported to and back from campus by way of her kind neighbor with a 4×4, I headed out to dig my car out from the place it had endured the blizzard. By this time, the plow had come by, which meant driving would be easier… if only I could get my car out from the rock-hard wall of snow plowed up around it. Grabbing the shovel out of my trunk (if you live in a state with winter snow, you understand having a shovel in your trunk at all times is a pretty necessary thing), I got busy. Not three shovelfuls later, I heard a vehicle stop just across the street. Without saying a word, an older gentleman hopped out, walked to the bed of his pickup, and pulled out a shovel. Walking over to me, he said “that’s going to take you all day by yourself.” Taken aback, I reassured the man that he didn’t have to help me, but he declined to let me be. Within minutes, a path was dug out in front of my car, and he coached me on the best possible route to make it out of the snowpile. I’m not sure how many times I told him “thank you!” during that 15 or so minutes (as many as I could fit in, I’ll say that!), but it wasn’t enough to thank this man for his assistance. Not only did he help me out on a wet and snowy morning, but he gave me evidence that good people still do exist, even in big cities.