Good Sam, the snowman

The street was clear; the side walk slope into the church was clear. But the snow and ice had settled in the trough where street, curb and side walk meet. As I left the Lytham Road parking lot after church I heard the scrape-crunch of shovel against concrete. A man had pulled up, turned on his flashers, opened the trunk and pulled out a shovel. He cleared that dangerous spot, then put the shovel back in his van, and drove off. Maybe he was a member of the church; maybe a passer-by who stopped to help.