A week ago, I pulled off the highway into the first gas station to refuel before meeting an old friend. I'd never been to a self-service station before, and I was surprised and pleased by the pampering I received. Sure, the employees were doing their job ... but I didn't have to exit my car and stand outside in the cold and they cleaned my windshield too! I was appreciative of those simple pleasures.
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Yesterday afternoon as I walked down the hallway, I gazed out the large window overlooking the area. Thousands of wispy snowflakes were floating in the air. Pure white lace graced the ground, and when I returned to my car after evening classes, it was lightly dusted. I had offered to drive a new student home (a GA who has been in the country for less than a week!), and I unlocked and started the car so he could sit inside while I cleared off the snow.
"Let me," he said, gesturing for me to pass him the snow scraper. I acquiesced, and handed the scraper to him across the hood of my car. I stood there for a few moments, expecting him to pass it back when he'd finished with the passenger side of the windshield, but I realized that he intended to wipe away the snow from all the windows. Feeling extremely pampered and a little foolish (for not recognizing his gallantry immediately), I snuggled into my seat as the temperature in the car continued to rise above the freezing temperature outside.
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