I Cleared Snow for My Elderly Neighbor Every Morning—Then a Chilling Note Showed Up at My Door

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# I Cleared Snow for My Elderly Neighbor Every Morning—Then a Chilling Note Showed Up at My Door

Winter arrived early that year, the kind of winter that settles into your bones and refuses to leave.

Every morning, before the sun rose and before the neighborhood stirred awake, I bundled up, grabbed my shovel, and stepped outside. The snow always looked peaceful at that hour—untouched, quiet, almost innocent.

That’s when I’d clear not only my driveway, but hers too.

Mrs. Kline lived next door. She was in her late seventies, maybe early eighties, with a slight stoop and hands that trembled when the cold was especially cruel. Her husband had passed years ago. No children visited. No cars ever pulled into her driveway.

I never asked her if she wanted help.

I just did it.

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## A Simple Act, Repeated Daily

It started one morning after a particularly heavy snowfall.

I looked out my window and saw Mrs. Kline standing on her porch, staring at the snow piled high on her steps. She held a shovel, but it looked almost as tall as she was.

I didn’t think twice.

I walked over, took the shovel from her hands, and cleared her steps, her walkway, and her driveway. She watched quietly from the porch, her arms folded tight against the cold.

When I finished, she smiled.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to.”

I shrugged. “I had the time.”

From that day on, it became routine.
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