If it weren’t for the amazing kindness of three strangers this evening, I’d probably still be stuck in my car, feeling panicked, overwhelmed, and so helpless. After this experience, which began with my misguided arrogance in thinking snow tires could get me through anything and ended with a newfound gratitude for humanity, I feel an exuberant gladness that fills me with such hope. In fact, it reverberates far beyond the frightening circumstances that I endured, making me completely rethink my mistaken assumptions as I look at the world around me.

Over the last several years, I’ve felt this increased frustration with American society. It derives from my horror at the direction this country appears to have adopted, at least through one of its political parties. Corruption, authoritarian tendencies, and domestic terrorism are much more comomonplace now. And I don’t hear people ever feeling as outraged as I am about the dangers we inevitably face as we head into a presidential election that could bring an end to our democracy, abruptly changing life as we know it for decades (or longer) to come. So while avidly watching the cable news channels, terrified at the grim future before us if nothing is done to prevent such depravity from a full governmental takeover, I’ve felt a complete lack of faith, a sweeping sense of acute bitterness.

My anger involved a very naive, quite simplistic belief that people are too caught up in their own lives to care about fighting for a moral universe that benefits us all, not just the rich and privileged. Because I don’t see others expressing the depth of rage that I feel at politicians who take criminal advantage of their power, who brazenly lie to their constituents and systematically destroy legitimate rights settled so firmly in law, who concentrate on erasing voters’ voices to maintain their diseased hold, I’ve drawn distorted conclusions that are unfair and, to be honest, inaccurate.

And I made this welcome discovery tonight due to the amazing kindness of strangers.

On this snowy evening, which I hadn’t expected to be so treacherous, I tried to make a lefthand turn out of my gym’s expansive parking lot. It’s a very busy road with two lanes going in each direction, so patience is necessary for a successful merge into traffic. After waiting a long while to turn, I could tell it would be some time before I’d have any clear, safe opportunity to move. And with a car quickly approaching behind me, I’d figured it would be best to make a right and then do a u-turn to get back on track with my commute home.

When I’d first started attending this gym, I had felt anxious about turning left on to that congested, active road. So I developed a pretty efficient workaround that only set me back a few short minutes. That’s what I decided to do tonight, without ever realizing the thick snow would be an issue. After turning right out of the lot, I proceeded to the closest traffic light to make my routine left turn at the green arrow. The wind was wildly blowing snow across the lanes at this point, but it didn’t phase me at all. I just continued with my plan to turn left on the next street I always take to get back to the main road again.

In the darkness, I vaguely noticed that this particular street I use for my journey had been plowed, but just to a partial extent. There were still mounds of hard snow in lumpy piles on each side, leaving only a narrow path forward. Yet I thought nothing of it since my car’s equipped with snow tires. However, the more I drove to reach the main road again, the more I regretted my decision to select this route. By the time I arrived at the street’s lip, with its substantial border of snow along the entire edge, my car was unable to move any further. All I could do was bounce back and forth, my tires spinning, incapable of traversing that final mound.

For a minute or so, I just sat in my car, feeling my hands shake at the shock of this situation, something I’d never expected to happen. My mind immediately thought about the amount of fuel in my car, how long it might take for AAA to arrive, the freezing temperatures outside, which were supposed to fall to dangerously cold levels in a matter of hours. I didn’t even know the name of the street where I was so helplessly stuck, making my panic even worse. Still trembling, I reached for my wallet and tried to remember which side had my AAA card, telling myself to stay calm. That’s when I noticed a pick-up truck on my left, which must have just pulled over to the side of the busy main road.

Through the wind and the blowing snow, a man approached me and asked if I needed any help. All I remember is opening my window and feeling instant gratitude toward this bundled-up stranger who called to someone in his truck.

“What do we have in there to use?” he asked. Then he looked at me with a caring smile and said, “Close your window so you stay warm.”

A woman jumped out of the truck’s passenger seat and they both searched the back of their truck. He returned with a piece of wood that he put under my front tires. Once he’d placed it under my front tire, he nodded at me as I opened the window again and said, “Okay, put it in drive. But don’t run over my foot. My girlfriend still thinks I’m handsome.”

In the midst of my panic, the fear and the shock, this man’s humor and generous spirit made me relaxed enough to smile back, to appreciate how these people had gone out of their way to help me. They could’ve simply driven right by, never stopping to get me out of the messy situation I’d brought on myself. But they didn’t. And for that, I’ll always think of them as possessing such amazing kindness.

It took several tries to manuever my car, where the man adjusted this piece of wood, directing me which way to turn my steering wheel, all while the snow continued to blow around us. Since my car still remained lodged in the snow, he asked me at one point if I minded him trying to drive it out of the snow. But just at that moment, another person pulled over and ran toward us to help. I’ll forever remember the big smile on his face as he immediately rushed to the back of my car with the first man and pushed while I put the gears into drive as directed. He obviously wanted to be helpful, too, and that good-hearted decision to stop also proved his amazing kindness, which I very much appreciate.

At the same time, the original helper’s girlfriend stood next to their truck and directed traffic to stop so I could safely get on the road. I called out, “Thank you!” several times as my car overcame that mass of packed snow, catching their mingled cheers that I could finally drive free. I don’t know if they heard me or not through the sounds of racing traffic and my car’s revving engine as I disappeared down the road. So I honked several times, hoping they’d somehow know how grateful I felt, as if I had been a caged bird they so wonderfully released back into the world again.

As I drove home, I thought about these very nice people, total strangers, who were so willing to be in the freezing cold, the whipping snow, to help me out of my self-made predicament. I learned a great deal from this startling episode in my life. For one, snow tires are not invincible. But even more importantly, I discovered that it’s narrow-minded of me to be so scornful, to make contemptuous assumptions about how much people care about their environments, the universe in which they live. Obviously, there is genuine concern that exists as a lovely force, however invisible at first, creating meaningful facets of support when needed. Now, I am humbled, quite happily, because I can look around me and know we aren’t so separate, so indifferent to how the world operates. People are aware and, when necessary, will come together for the sake of community, for the good of humanity. I know that now. And it’s all because of the amazing kindness of strangers.

Writing and racquetball truly express my constant need to stay in touch, to build wonderful connections, to keep lines of communication open for the inevitable enrichment to come. Finding important ways to communicate will always be crucial to how I interact with the world. And I no longer feel self-conscious or unnerved by this need. It’s a motivating factor in how I look at the world around me and my place within it. So even though I clearly remember that teasing from my childhood, I feel no shame about my continual desire to connect, whether through writing, racquetball, or other means. Communication is at my core andI’m proud to say it represents an attempt to make sense of the landscape around me, to understand those whom I meet, and to make meaningful connections that enrich my life. To me, that’s the value of building such bonds and the reason why I am a constant communicator in every possible way.