Unexpected and real

Yesterday, Sunday, Hugo and I went to church and ate at my parents and then drove home. There was a lot of snow coming down, it was dark already, but not late. As we pulled up in front of our fourplex, Hugo opens the door with the car still on and tells me to stay inside. He acts as though he's about to pick up something from home so we can head out again! Or so I thought. He says,"Stay inside, just hold on!" I thought to myself, why? Why stay in this car with the heater on and with the baby when we need to be in the comfort of our much warmer home? Well, I stay in and I'm already mad at him. I look through the windows and he's walking towards our neighbor's door! What?! What's he doing?! Why am I still in here? He reaches for their snow shovel and starts to clear out all the fallen snow, while still more keeps falling. I'm perplexed. He keeps going real fast. Keep in mind he's wearing only his thin church pants and shirt with a very light sweater on top. The snow keeps falling on his sweet head and gets wet. My eyes start to glaze. He shovels and shovels. Clears our sidewalk, then the entrances to the stairs, each apartment and the path that leads into the parking stalls. It's so warm inside the car that the windows fog up and start to drip. I stare at the hazzy figure of my husband out in the snow. Hugo's still going. He clears up the steps, he even clears up the grass I'll eventually step on to get out of the car. He can't beat the falling snow, I watch him go over all the paths again. Clearing them out, more cold snow on his hair. He does this for 12 minutes straight nonstop. I'm in tears. He comes around my door and signals me to come with him home. I step out with the baby covered. He grabs all my church bags and baby's bag. He's sniffling a little. I bet it's the cold, poor man. He doesn't seem to care. His shoes are wet, and so we head to our door. As we walk in my guilt sinks in lower into my stomach. I lay the baby down and he's still sleeping. I felt bad. I reach to hug Hugo and he's already gathering the trash to take it out. As I hug him, I am overwhelmed with appreciation. Something so small, so easy, but so important about the kind of man he is. "Thank you," was all I could muster up to whisper. My tears start to roll out. He looks into my face and smiles. "Ah, no problem," he says and picks up the trash bags and steps out again.

It's incredible how the small things someone I love can do and yet they mean the world to me! I'm happy to be married to him.