The Hidden Pleasures of a Winter Wonderland

All day long, the snow has been whipping about outside my window and across the province, much to motorists' dismay. Much to my mothers' too, as dinner guests were expected and a lack of salad plagued my house. Sadly, I was cooped up in my dorm room two hours away and did not get to see the fiasco that ensued, with my brother and father cleaning off the ol'Buick and skittering down the snow covered driveway in search of dinner supplies.

Here I was, looking out at the wintery sky as I had been all day long from my warm hibernation inside, when it dawned on me to make a trek out to the local Starbucks for a latte and a relaxing session with my latest Vanity Fair. I bundled up and headed out into the great white north, down the unplowed sidewalk with my arms out to the side, keeping my balance the whole way there.

I found a table adjacent to the window, and sipped the creamy vanilla bean latte creation the barrista had whipped up for me. Flipping through the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, I paused at the paragraphs about up and coming artists, a pages-long article about the rat infestation in Mizoram/48 year interval between blossoming of bamboo plants, and the aristocratic appearances at a celebrity funeral.

Starbucks: a coffee house where one can: stare at the menu for hours and still not understand how to order; read magazines, newspapers, and emails; gaze out the window at traffic; listen to soft yet interesting melodies for free; people watch; and drink over-priced coffee without care, because they know that they are paying mostly for the atmosphere and table they occupy, and they are okay with that.

The windy walk home was not sans joy, for the most specular thing happened. You may not understand, I warn you, because it was one of those events that had to be witnessed to be understood. In the parking lot near my home, a man asked two reluctant passerbys for help with his car, which was comfortably lodged in a snowbank. Before they could refuse, four strapping male students came running out of their building, snow gear already on, and offered the man enthusiastic aid. They must have seen him from their room up above, and it made me happy to see their generous spirit.

The random generosity and caring that people exhibit nowadays, I believe are not like shiny relics of an era past. Anyone can make an argument that the age of chivalry and being a gentleman - a helpful or kind person even - have past, but I truly believe the opposite. It's not hard to find a helping hand in this world, and it's not hard to see the many hands held out towards us either. Maybe everyone should think about the small random acts of kindness they can do, before they criticize the lack of them in this world.