The ice and snow came early this year, as did the selfish behavior. Just days after those who preach thankfulness and gratitude had finished their gluttonous ways, the harsh winter weather came rolling through. Ice, lots of ice, was followed by snow, lots of snow. Shovels scraped and plows plowed. Some took their time, meticulously clearing straight paths, then salted. Others vigourosly dug in, created pockets of space among mountains of snow. All had the same initial goal, but it was when one had completed their task that their true selves peeked through.
Some lumbered through snow, down streets, around corners, through lawns no longer green. They helped the elderly, the sick, the parents with no wonder to supervise while they worked. Some simply helped those who had not woken, realizing they'd have done it for them; or maybe not. Others lay in bed, waiting for those selfless beings to clear a path, then at the very last minute, a cry of being busy or burdened, as they scraped holes into their windshields, taking off, snow, and ice flying from their roof and hood, never looking back to see how their inaction may cause others despair or worse.
No thanks are necessary for most. Others demand it. Some worked for minutes, others for hours. Some got paid, others did not. It matters not in a society or community where others count on the kindness of strangers and friends alike. Society is crumbling, because the few have become the masses. Love thy neighbor, a mere fairytale of a long-ago time. The silence of the snowy day seems metaphorical. The beauty and serenity combined with the altruistic nature of some, while the unseen ferocity of the season is telling of our societal shift towards selfishness.
Some lumbered through snow, down streets, around corners, through lawns no longer green. They helped the elderly, the sick, the parents with no wonder to supervise while they worked. Some simply helped those who had not woken, realizing they'd have done it for them; or maybe not. Others lay in bed, waiting for those selfless beings to clear a path, then at the very last minute, a cry of being busy or burdened, as they scraped holes into their windshields, taking off, snow, and ice flying from their roof and hood, never looking back to see how their inaction may cause others despair or worse.
No thanks are necessary for most. Others demand it. Some worked for minutes, others for hours. Some got paid, others did not. It matters not in a society or community where others count on the kindness of strangers and friends alike. Society is crumbling, because the few have become the masses. Love thy neighbor, a mere fairytale of a long-ago time. The silence of the snowy day seems metaphorical. The beauty and serenity combined with the altruistic nature of some, while the unseen ferocity of the season is telling of our societal shift towards selfishness.
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