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Wednesday, February 09, 2000 Page: 12A
Over the past few days, I’ve noticed the behavior of snow shovelers.
The least energetic – because they don’t expect to be out there very long
trudge outside in the least amount of clothing. They will shovel just enough
to waddle through a pathway for themselves or the mailman. Then they’ll run
back into the house, flop down on a chair and take the rest of the day to
recoup, while their significant other fawns over them with hot chocolate and
muffins.
Another kind is the out-smarter. They will take their trusty broom in hand
every half hour and sweep the stoop or walkway. They hold vigil all night
watching out the window and sleep only when the snow has stopped falling.
Have you ever noticed the me-myself-and-I shoveler? This kind of shoveler
has scads of energy, but only to solve his own immediate problems. Shoveling
snow onto other people’s walks or driveways is his specialty. Sometimes you
see this type with snow blowers blowing snow onto the other nearby properties,
leaving these neighbors in a real snow ball wondering how they will ever be
able to clear a path to their car.
But I have to hand it to the smartest shovelers of all. They don’t shovel
any snow. They wait until all have finished digging out their parking spots
and move right in as soon as they leave. They’re the ones who have the CD
players and hot cars, but don’t own a shovel. They kick the snow off the steps
with their feet and watch their parents struggle when bringing in the
groceries. The trouble is that’s probably where they learned how to be the
smart shovelers in the first place.
There is one more type of shoveler. He’s the first one out and the last one
in. The one who goes up and down the street digging out the neighbors or the
elderly – just for the satisfaction of knowing he could be a blessing to
someone else. This guy or gal brings the shovel in the car with him in case
someone else gets stuck and needs a hand. He’s the servant and he’s the
greatest of them all. That’s the person I point out to my children to watch
and learn from.
In my family, my husband is the servant; my oldest, the muscle-bound son,
is the “smartest” shoveler who doesn’t see the point and sleeps the day
away. And me? Well, I’ve been blessed with another son who loves to help his
dad, so I don’t have to go out unless I want to.
In times when we’re up to our thighs in snow, it sure is frustrating if
you’re not surrounded by the greatest. I thank God I have the greatest.
Debbie Switzer
West Pittston