As I struggled with my anger and PTSD from being yelled at by a neighbor over a problem I had tried resolving, to no avail, and in the end, had no responsibility over it, I started shoveling the snow from my driveway. I hate scooping snow because of my twice-broken back.
Then from across the street came out neighbor Bob, riding his bright green and yellow John Deere, equipt with a plow blade. He usually clears all the nearby sidewalks and, if possible, their drives because he’s a good neighbor.
“Stand back,” he shouted over the din of his tractor.
I moved to the front of my truck, which I parked facing forward, and watched him back his machine into my driveway.
Quickly, he scrapped my driveway clear of a thick layer of freshly fallen, wet snow. I offered to give him five bucks for gas and get him a cup of hot coffee, but like every other time, he told me no and then went about his way.
With the heavier snow out of the way, I returned to my garage, hung up my shovel, went inside, and got myself a cup of coffee, my faith in humanity restored.
The Old Blog in the Desert 