Keep On the Grass

Yesterday, I was out for my four mile run to Lake Grubb and back. On a narrow and busy (for semi-rural Lancaster County) stretch of road, an old dude sitting in a chair smoking a cigarette on his front porch shouted out to me as I huffed and puffed my way by:

"Hey, this road is kind of dangerous. If you ever need to run on my grass to get out the way of a car, please do so."

How refreshing. It reminded me that charity is usually small acts done consistently. Most people would tell me to get the hell off of their yard. He is telling me to get the hell on it.

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