A Blizzard, Twelve Truckers, and One Small
A Light in the Storm
The first night felt like a miracle. Twelve cold, weary truckers found shelter in my tiny diner,
their laughter melting the chill outside.
As snow buried the world, the diner glowed — warm, safe,
and alive with stories of family and life on the road.
By morning, the storm still raged, so I baked cinnamon rolls.
One trucker fixed the door; another shoveled the walkway.
When they tried to pay, I said, “You need the food more than I need the cash.”
We shared gratitude as the blizzard howled.
Later, a note appeared on my door:
“Thank you for reminding us that goodness still exists.
We won’t forget you.”
The story spread, but the fame didn’t matter.
I’d learned something simple and true —
when you open your door to others, you open your heart too.
