This is a Christmas story, and not just because it includes Santa, but because at its heart it’s about one simple gift: kindness.
On a sunny but cold Saturday, I was on my way to a Santa Claus parade in Holstein when something that I had been confident would not happen to me – despite my lack of snow tires – happened.
I put my car in the ditch.
I had yet to arrive in Holstein, a place I can’t say I had ever been before, when I encountered the “road closed” sign. Closed for the Santa Claus parade.
I had around 10 minutes to spare, so I didn’t panic, but never having been in Holstein before, I wasn’t really sure how much further I needed to go to see Santa. Or where I would be able to park. Or what roads I needed to take to get there.
I pulled over onto a sideroad to check a map on my phone.
Then, when I saw car after car drive around the “road closed” sign, I decided that was probably my best course of action.
I opted for a U-turn to get back to the road I had been on. Should have gone for the three-point turn instead.
That was my first mistake.
In the snow (which was all but absent where I live in Guelph), I underestimated the amount of shoulder on the road. That was my next mistake.
But there was more.
When I felt my wheel go off the road, I tried to back up. When that failed, I went forward again, believing madly that I could somehow steer my way out of the mess I was in.
I soon realized that was impossible, and decided it was time to plead for help from passersby.
I jumped out of my car at the very next vehicle I spotted, hoping the occupants might be willing to help me push.
That’s when I learned one of my back wheels was no longer making contact with the ground. The nice gentleman in the black SUV that had come along pointed out my predicament, before asking me if I had a phone I could use to call for help.
I was ready to cry. It had taken me nearly an hour to get there, and I would surely miss the parade I had been sent to photograph for the newspaper.
That’s when another passerby, a young man on a bike with a hockey stick, spoke to the man in the SUV suggesting he go up the road and send someone down with a tractor to pull me out.
It was like a wonderful ray of hope, and words couldn’t express my gratitude.
I was far from home and multiple strangers were offering to help me out of a predicament I had landed in only through my own stupidity.
The SUV soon returned, its driver assuring me someone would be down shortly with a tractor.
As I waited, watching the time tick slowly by and wondering if there was any possible way I would get a photo of Santa in a horse-drawn carriage today, I debated calling a tow truck anyway.
In that time, at least three more people stopped to ask me if help was on the way.
It was.
The tractor arrived, and while the driver and I examined my car for a suitable hitching point, another tractor came down the road from the other direction.
“You need a push?” the driver asked simply.
I pointed to my wheel hovering at least six inches off the ground, but he didn’t seem bothered.
The two tractor drivers immediately adopted a “might as well try” attitude, and it was to my benefit.
While I reversed from the driver’s seat, they pushed, and within seconds my car was back on the road – all four wheels.
I thanked them profusely, wishing I had something I could give them to thank them for their efforts. But there was nothing in my car but stale Cheerios and reusable shopping bags, so I just thanked them again, before hurrying off to the parade.
Making it to that parade felt like a Christmas miracle to me.
It was a beautiful event, with a country village backdrop, with snow-covered fields, roofs and yards, under a bright blue sky.
To me, the horses were the stars of the parade, and I think they even rivaled Santa for attention from the children lining the streets.
But my delight in being there to witness it was increased by the fact that I almost didn’t make it. It was only because of the generosity of strangers that I got to see any of the parade at all.
In the short time between getting my car stuck and getting it freed, many people had stopped to offer me help, and their kindness and giving spirit is what makes this feel like a Christmas story.
