"Kindness is like snow. It beautifies everything it
covers."
--- Kahlil Gibran
Ok, I would not agree that snow beautifies everything, but
that's just a personal issue, and this quote is probably meant metaphorically.
Snow does enhance places in New Hampshire like ski areas and fallow fields. It
looks lovely in Central Park, clinging to spindly tree branches while tiny
white lights twinkle through and put a bit of sparkle in the air. The sight of
snow on the cupola of Founders Hall on the campus of my alma mater Saint
Michael's College in Winooski, VT never fails to warm my heart. It evokes a
memory of the best years of my life when everything was new, and my world was a
small campus of brick buildings, friends, and adventures.
Having grown older though, and, admittedly, a good bit
crankier, snow that shows up in my world now is not viewed by me as anything
but a hassle and a hazard. Staying upright on flat, dry pavement is a struggle
for me. Throw in snow, ice and wearing clunky boots that I hate and it's a
recipe for disaster, complete with public humiliation and an epic windmilling of
arms and legs that ends with me stranded in a snow bank. I've never once fallen
without at least a dozen witnesses, because what fun would that be?
The snow situation recently in town, however, has brought to
the fore another problem. A lack of kindness, compassion, and patience. We got
slammed, no doubt. This bomb cyclone was just insane in how fast it roared in,
crapped white death all over everything and then zoomed out to sea, without a
backward glance. It was overwhelming to some, no doubt. It doesn't matter how
much bread and milk you buy; if you can't even shove open the storm door to get
out to your driveway, it's going to get ugly fast. Visions of Jack Nicholson
and "Here's Johnny!" are never far from my mind in these storms.
Eventually, though, we all dig out, and life goes on, as it should. I was not
thrilled about forking over close to $1,000 on a snowblower some years back,
but it happens to have been one of the best decisions ever, and I'm grateful
for it.
Not everyone has one though. Some have teens that shovel,
landscapers that plow, or some other way of dealing with the snow. It's been a
few days though, and if one goes by the angst and anxiety on social media, you
would think that there are no sidewalks cleared anywhere in town. Wee babes are
being left to wander busy streets, like some snowy version of Frogger, leaping
out of the way of oncoming traffic. It's true; the snow hasn't changed many of
the driving habits I routinely rant about. People still park like they own the
road and not the car and apparently many are oblivious to those around them,
and there have been some close calls. Sidewalks seem to be a significant issue,
and it might be time for Brenda's Rules of Snow Etiquette. Much like myself,
they're entirely arbitrary and not complete but take a look anyway.
1)
If at all possible, shovel the sidewalk in front
of your house. No, you don't own it, and there is no town ordinance that can
force you to take care of it. No law exists telling you to find a little
kindness in your heart either, but it's a good idea. If you can't do it,
because of age, finances, physical infirmities or other issues, that's OK.
Maybe ask a neighbor? Perhaps offer a hot meal, a hand knit scarf or a bottle
of a chosen adult beverage to someone in trade for it? Your letter carrier will
thank you, so will your friends with dogs, the trash collection guys and,
especially near schools, you will have the thanks of grateful parents and
students who have a safe place to walk. Move away from the thought of "Why
should I?" and go towards, "Why wouldn't I?"
2)
If you have a plow service, for your home or
business, please ask them not to pile your snow into the driveways and yards of
your neighbors. You don't rake your leaves into someone else's yard; you don't
go over and pick someone else's veggie garden without permission. Don't make
your snow their problem. Also, please realize how hard snow removal crews work,
especially our town employees. Thank them when you can and try looking at it
from their place behind the wheel.
3)
Check on your neighbors. Yes, even that cranky
one that yells, "Get off my lawn." It can be hard for people to ask
for help but think about it. Who doesn't need some assistance now and then? If
you can, offer your help. Because it's nice, because it benefits everyone and
because it's good karma.
Spring will be here eventually, as it always is. Kindness,
on the other hand, seems rather in short supply in some areas. We can't change
the weather, but I'm betting we can make it seem a little less brutal? To those
(and you know who you are) who already do this, thank you. Stay safe and warm
and as my friend Chris always says, "Peace and love."
