Thursday evening, when the snow was fresh, the plows were absent, and my mind was not fully engaged, I got stuck in the mud.

My wife had asked me to come get her, and I drove over in our Honda mini van. Unfortunately, I was a little less careful than I should have been. When I went to make my left turn into the parking lot, the snow was obscuring the edge of Highway 55, and I missed. With a sick feeling, I felt the left tire drop off the pavement, and into the soft mud of the median strip. I tried to keep moving forward, but the mud sucked me in. I tried backing up, but realized immediately that I was done. Spinning my wheels would only make things worse.

I turned on my flashers and walked across the highway to meet my wife. It’s a good thing I had my coat.

There was no one else left in the building who might help us push the car, and I knew it would take more than that. Even a tow rope might be useless because the road was so slippery. We discussed our options. A tow truck would be painful. That would be expensive, and it would probably be hours until one could be dispatched. Leaving the car overnight was also out of the question. We were on our own.

I called our next door neighbor, and asked for the favor of a ride home. Without hesitation, she said she would, and her husband braved the obviously nasty driving conditions and came over to get us.

Once home, we loaded up our other car with boards, plywood, a jack, and other tools to free our car. We mulled over plans for lifting and pushing the Honda. I was sure some cold, some wet and some mud would be in my future …. and my hair …. and my shoes.

Back at the scene of the crime, I briefly admired the mud. We had barely gotten started on the rescue when a young gentleman named Joe pulled up in a large white pickup with a blade on the front and asked if we were stuck. He was going the opposite direction, so he drove off to turn around. When he returned, he backed up to our car, and hooked up a chain. He gently and skillfully pulled our minivan out of the mud, and we were done. No mud. No cold, wet, miserable struggle against the elements. Part of me was disappointed, but the rest of me was pretty happy. We thanked Joe in the truck as best we could, and he took off.

From time to time, I am reminded how many kind and generous people are running around loose in our world. I remember an incident years ago when I got stuck on a busy street in Eagan. Within seconds, a car-full of Japanese men in business atire stopped, shovels in hand, and dug me out, like a team of oriental angels sent in the knick of time to rescue me. They got back in their car and drove off. What a blessing!

There are lots of people like that. Most of the time you don’t see them, or hear of them, because as long as we are taking care of ourselves, their generosity is not required. When there is need, though, they come out of the woodwork, expecting no reward but the smiles on the faces of those they help.

There are those who insist that society’s needs can only be met through government compulsion. Charity and kindness are things that must be compelled, because otherwise there is “never enough”. Needs cannot be met with the generosity of neighbors, friends, and family. They must be doled out as “rights”, and everyoneforced to pay.

Last night, Joe and my neighbor reminded me that those people are wrong. Thank you both.

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