Careful What You Wish For

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping.’  To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers—so many caring people in this world.”  Fred Rogers

A winter storm rolled through Roanoke yesterday and the day before, dumping a level of snow on us that hasn’t been seen in years.  Sixteen inches, at least, and deeper in some places, I’m certain. 

At first, I was delighted.  I’ve always liked the snow, and in the past few years I’ve been disappointed that we haven’t had more of it.  Visions of playing out in it, making snowmen, having snowball fights, all danced in my mind, and when the snow started coming down on Wednesday afternoon, I watched with excitement.  I was glad to be leaving work early, and I wasn’t disturbed as the whiteness got thicker.

The excitement began to wane, however, when I had to sweep the snow from my car before I could get on my way.  No worries, I thought, most of it will blow off once I get to the highway.  I was confident, of course, that the highway and the wide avenue on which I live would be in good shape.  What didn’t occur to me is that it would make no sense for plows and salters to be out clearing roads when the snow was still going on.  I didn’t get above thirty miles an hour the entire time I was on the highway, and my alarm only got worse when I reached my avenue. 

Among unpleasant feelings, the dread you feel when you’re stuck on a snowy road, tires spinning, the snow continuing to come down, is one of the worst.  Suddenly the snow doesn’t look as white and pretty anymore.  I remember looking up at the sky, almost black by that point, the streetlights turning the snow a brownish-yellow.  I remember spinning my steering wheel one way and the other, my leg getting sore from pumping the gas, shunting myself forward on my seat as if that would help at all.  Who can I call for help? I thought.  My parents are hours away, and my friends are sick, and my roommate doesn’t have any tools to help me…and in any case, I didn’t want to drag anyone else out into the mess.

In the end, a couple of city workers and some policemen stopped to help—maybe someone passing by had seen me floundering and called them, knowing better than I what to do.  They got me moving again, and the rush of gratitude I felt almost put me in tears.  I was free!

I got stuck once more, on a steeper hill further down the road, but this time I knew I would have help eventually, even if it was just those same workers.  I cursed and struggled again, but the stomach-sinking fear didn’t come back.  In the end, a sweet man pulled over in front of me and gave me a push that let me build up the momentum I needed to get up that last hill.  It remains a truth of my life that in times of trouble, people band together to help one another.  “Look for the helpers,” Mr. Rogers says, and you always find them in difficult times.

I saw them again this morning, when I went out to see if I could dig out my poor car from the piles of snow that had accumulated.  There were at least a dozen people out there, using whatever they could to clear the snow—dustpans, brooms, even small trash cans and garden tools—and not always working on their own cars.  Two of the guys there, one I knew and one I did not, took the shovels my roommate and I had borrowed out of our hands and set to work around my car.  Within twenty minutes I was clear, and they went on to help someone else.  I imagine by the end of today there will be clear avenues in and out of the apartment complex, and not because of anything the landlord had to do.

Seeing everything they'd accomplished, I felt ashamed of myself.  I had wanted this, had hoped for it most of the winter.  But I had not been able to imagine the sheer mass of it, the problem of where to put yet another snowdrift, of the pushing and digging and scraping that would have to be done.  I thought nothing of the water that would be on the road, leaving cars hydroplaning, or of the difficulty posed by people being unable to get to work, or the massive undertaking by the city to get it all clear.  I look at the snow quite differently now, and I’m resolved to be more careful in what I wish for from now on, because while we know getting what we want can hurt us, we don’t always think of how it will influence others.  My other goal is to be one of the helpers, even if it's just in loaning tools or making hot chocolate.  I'm not a child anymore, and I want my thinking to reflect that, in that I consider the well-being of others at the same time I think of my own.