I am an elderly widower living alone outside Buffalo. Early one freezing Saturday morning, two boys arrived on my porch looking terrified by the bitter storm. The fifteen year old boy offered to clear my entire snowy driveway for twenty dollars. He and his twelve year old brother carried two damaged shovels held together by tape. I almost accepted their incredibly low offer because my bad knees constantly ache during winter. I considered staying inside with hot coffee while they handled the exhausting labor. However, looking closely at their scared faces made me realize they were not simply trying to earn pocket money. I instructed them to do the job properly and watched them work from my window. The brothers worked relentlessly without complaints. The older boy chopped at the heavy snow until his shoulders shook while the younger boy scraped the ice. After forty minutes of brutal effort, the younger child collapsed onto my bottom step to breathe warmth into his frozen gloves. His brother immediately rushed over to rub his back and took over the hardest work. Seeing their devotion prompted me to bring them warm mugs of hot chocolate. The freezing children accepted the drinks with immense gratitude. I then directed the older boy to retrieve my heavy steel shovel from the garage. He looked at the sturdy metal tool like a magical key and used it to finish clearing my property perfectly.