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A fire hydrant at the edge of Tom’s property had exploded, sending a powerful jet of water directly at his house. In the freezing night air, the water was turning to ice on contact, slowly encasing his perfect home and his precious German SUV in a thick crystal shell.
The streetlights caught each frozen droplet, turning his property into a bizarre winter wonderland.
By morning, half the neighborhood had gathered in order to gawk at the spectacle. While some were taking photos with their phones, others were whispering behind their hands.
Tom stood in his driveway, attacking the ice with a tiny garden shovel, looking absolutely miserable in his designer winter coat. His perfectly styled hair was finally out of place, plastered to his forehead with sweat despite the cold.
I watched him struggle for some minutes before sighing heavily. Dad would’ve known what to do.
He always said that kindness costs nothing but means everything. I grabbed my heavy-duty ice scraper and walked over.
“Want some help?” I asked. “I’ve got some experience with this sort of thing.”
Tom looked up, surprised and suspicious. “Why would you help me? After everything?”
I started scraping. “Guess I’m just a better neighbor than you.”
We worked for hours, gradually freeing his car and clearing a path to his front door. By the time we finished, the sun was setting, and we were both exhausted.
The next morning, there was a knock at my door. Tom stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, making his expensive shoes creak.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I was a jerk. You didn’t have to help me yesterday, but you did.” He thrust an envelope at me. “This is to thank you… and to make amends.”
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