By Cindy Yantis
The snow was new, with over a foot falling in the past 24
hours. It was fun to be out in it
and I like to say I was getting my “fix” of winter wonderland before heading
back to LA. And, to make it all
the more wonderland I was coming back from having a heart-to-heart lunch with
my 19-year-old “old soul” of a nephew, Kirk.
We were pushing the clock, trying to stretch time before I
had to leave for the airport. And, as is so often a way of life in
December in Michigan, the road held surprise patches of ice. One such patch seemed to suddenly
appear as we approached a back up of cars stopped on a two-lane road outside of
town. Brake lights appeared and in
an instant we were swerving onto the shoulder and into the yard, thankfully
without a ditch, with all four tires of my sister’s car buried in snow.
Huh. After a
stream of expletives I said, “Honey, this isn’t good.” My first thought was that I was going
to miss my flight. But, Kirk
sprung into action, calmly and without comment, except to say, “Wow, that
seemed to come out of nowhere.”
So, I followed suit and we dug the snow out from in front of the tires,
trying to create a path back to the road.
This was going to take awhile.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a pickup truck then crept
off the road and stopped behind our car.
The young man driving the truck said, “So, you got yourselves stuck.”
“Yeah, we did.” “Well, let’s see what we can do.” So, he pulled back onto the shoulder, hopped out, crawled in
the truck bed and started pulling things out from under the snow. He pondered
each item, a rope, a wide strap, and then settled on a thick chain. All of this without a word. We kept saying thank you in various
ways, and he just nodded or smiled.
He was a man with a single focus.
Then, again out of nowhere, as our savior worked on hooking
his truck to our car, a second pickup truck stopped. The driver, another young man, fully tattooed up his neck
and onto his baldhead, sat for a moment in his car. Then, he jumped out, grabbed a bag of salt from his truck
bed. He swooped in saying, “I
don’t have any time and I have my kid in my truck but here’s a bag of salt to
help pave your way. Have a blessed
day and a happy new year.” And,
then he was gone. By now, the chains
were in place and our first trucker pulled us out of the snow and safely back
onto the road. We thanked him
profusely and he gracefully wished us well, happy new years all around.
The entire event took 14 minutes.

Kirk and I looked at each other and he said, “What just
happened?” I said we were just
taken care of by angels, angels in pickup trucks. It reminded me of other times in my life when angels seemed to
appear out of nowhere, helping me out of this jam or that hiccup. It got me thinking about how we’re all
connected, we’re all one, sharing a human experience. We are, at our core, the same. There’s a kindness and a collective generous human spirit that
is palpable and delicious.
We decided we really didn’t need to tell anyone about what
happened. There was no harm done
and everything was fine and still on schedule. I said that this would be something I’d love to write about
on Thought Changer because it brought to light one of life’s delectable
metaphors, but I couldn’t this time.
He asked me why and I said because it would out him. He was driving the car.
Kirk looked at me and said, “Please write it. I’ll be upset if you don’t.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes. Promise you will?” Then, he held out his fist and I bumped mine against his. Promise made.
So, thank you angels driving pickup trucks. And, wise nephews with old souls.
Promise kept.
Cindy Yantis is the Thought Changer Blog owner & curator. She is a writer living in Los Angeles. For more info: CindyYantis.com
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