Two boys offered to shovel my driveway for 20 euros. The older one was fifteen, the younger one barely twelve. Their gloves were soaked, their shovels were held together with tape, and it was minus eight degrees Celsius. I almost agreed without a word. After all, at 71, my knees no longer allow me to do this kind of work. But an hour later, when I slipped 140 euros into the older boy’s hand, his little brother started to cry. And the older boy asked me something strange: « Sir, do you know what time it is? We absolutely have to be gone before noon. »
It was 6:48 a.m. on that Saturday morning in January when the doorbell rang.
I live in a small house a few kilometers from Pontarlier, in the Doubs region. Here, when it snows, it’s not just for pretty postcards.
That night, about thirty centimeters of snow had fallen.
And as usual, the snowplow had pushed back in front of my gate a huge ridge of packed snow, almost as hard as ice.
I opened the door in my pajama pants, with my old wool sweater.
Two boys stood in the doorway.
The tall man’s face was red with cold. His hair peeked out from under a grey cap, and he was holding a shovel whose handle was wrapped in adhesive tape.
The little boy was wearing a down jacket that was clearly too big for him. In his hands, he held a plastic shovel with a broken corner.
« Good morning, sir, » the tall man began. « Excuse us for bothering you so early. Would you like us to clear the snow from your driveway? »
I looked behind them.
My driveway is about thirty meters long, from the garage to the gate. Not counting the entrance steps and the sidewalk.
— You plan to do all that with just two shovels?
— Yes, sir. The driveway, the steps, and in front of the mailbox. We’ll do everything.
— And how much are you asking?
He hesitated.
— Twenty euros.
– Each ?
— No, sir. For both of us.
I’m going to tell you something I’m not proud of.
My first thought was: twenty euros to save me two hours of breaking my back, that’s a great deal.
I am 71 years old. I have arthritis in my knees, an old pain in my kidneys, and I no longer really have the courage to fight with the snow.
Since the death of my wife Madeleine three years ago, I often put off small chores until they become big problems.
So yes, I wanted to tell them to start, close the door and go back inside where it’s warm.
But something bothered me.
The tall man regularly looked at the road, as if he were waiting for someone.
The little boy clutched his shovel tightly to his chest, trembling.
They didn’t have that energy of kids who want to make a little pocket money.
They seemed to be in a hurry.
And above all, worried.
« Okay, » I replied. « But I want it done right. »
— Yes, sir. Thank you very much.
They got to work immediately.
I went back to my kitchen to make coffee.
From the window, I could see them.
The tall man attacked the compacted pile in front of the gate. He planted his shovel in the ice, pressed down with all his weight, and started again.
The little boy was clearing the snow behind him.
After twenty minutes, the tall man’s shoulders were already soaked with sweat.
The little boy, meanwhile, was moving slowly forward with his broken shovel.
He would sometimes slip, catch himself, then start again.
Neither of them stopped.
Not a word of complaint.
After forty minutes, I saw the little one sit down on the first step of my front porch.
He had removed a glove to blow on his fingers.
The tall man approached immediately.
I saw him rub his hands together, speak softly to him and give him his own shovel, the one that was still more or less solid.
Then he picked up the broken shovel again.
I stood in front of the window for a few seconds.
I don’t know why, but that gesture made me feel ashamed.
I was warm with my coffee, while two children were exhausting themselves in my driveway for twenty euros.
I took two large mugs out of the cupboard and made some hot chocolate.
Then I put on my boots.
— Okay, mandatory break!
They turned around abruptly.
The tall one replied immediately:
— We’re not finished yet, sir. There’s still the gate, but we’ll finish.
— I can see that. Here, drink this.
The little boy took his mug in both hands.
— Is this really for us?
— No, it’s for the snowmen. Of course it’s for you.
He smiled.
It was the first time I had ever seen him smile.
— What is your name?
— Mathis, replied the tall one.
— And I, Noah.
— Well, Mathis and Noah, you will do me the favor of warming up for five minutes.
They obeyed, but Mathis quickly checked the time on his phone.
He seemed upset.
I asked him:
— Do you have an appointment?
— No, sir. Well… we need to finish fairly early.
I didn’t insist.
I showed them the garage.
— On the left, against the wall, there’s a real steel shovel. Take it. You’ll get there faster than with your plastic pieces.
Mathis ran to get her.
When he returned, he was holding it with both hands, as if I had just entrusted him with something very precious.
The rest of the work progressed much faster.
A little over an hour later, my driveway was spotless.
They had even cleared the steps down to the concrete and cleaned the sidewalk in front of the mailbox.
Frankly, I couldn’t have done better.
They showed up at my door.
Mathis had scarlet cheeks.
Noah had snow up to his shoes.
— There you go, sir. We’re finished.
I looked down the driveway.
Then I opened my wallet.
I took out seven twenty euro notes and put them in Mathis’s hand.
He counted them.
Once.
Then a second one.
His expression has changed.
— Sir… you made a mistake.
– No.
— But there are one hundred and forty euros!
— I know how to count, you know.
He handed me the tickets.
— We said twenty.
— And I’ve just seen the work you’ve done. You deserve more.
– But…
— Mathis, listen to me. Just because someone agrees to work for almost nothing doesn’t mean their work is worthless.
He lowered his eyes.
Next to him, Noah began to cry.
Not loudly.
He simply had large tears running down his cheeks, which were reddened by the cold.
Mathis turned towards him.
— Hey, it’s okay, Noah. Stop it. It’s going to be okay.
But his own voice was trembling.
I didn’t understand anything anymore.
— What’s going on, boys? Did I do something wrong?
Mathis shook his head.
— No, sir. On the contrary.
— So why is your brother crying?
He clenched the banknotes in his fist.
Then he asked:
— Do you know exactly what time it is?
I looked at my watch.
— Eight thirty-two. Why?
He closed his eyes for a second.
— We still have time, then…
— Time for what?
He looked at his little brother, then at me.
— It’s for our mother, sir. We need to have enough money before noon.
I asked him why.
And when he finally answered me, I understood why those two children had come knocking on my door before seven in the morning, in the middle of winter…
— It’s for our mother, sir. We need to have enough money before noon.
Mathis always had the tickets clutched tightly in his hand.
Her little brother was wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his down jacket.
— Enough money for what? I asked.
Mathis hesitated.
Then he replied:
— For his medication.
I looked at the two boys.
— Is she sick?
— She had a heart problem last year. She stayed in the hospital for several days. Since then, she has had to take medication every day.
He spoke very quickly, as if he was afraid of wasting time explaining things to me.
— The doctor changed one of his medications. But at the pharmacy, there was a problem with his file. They asked him to pay upfront before reimbursement.
He stopped.
— Mom said we would wait.
— Wait for what?
— Let her receive her pay.
I felt my stomach tighten.
— And she still has her old medication?
Mathis shook his head.
— Not enough. Yesterday, she didn’t take anything. She told us that missing a day wasn’t a big deal.
Noah raised his head.
— But this morning, she almost fell in the kitchen.
Mathis turned towards him.
— Noah…
– It’s true !
The little boy had a hoarse voice.
— She was holding the sink and saying it was turning. Then she put on her coat and left anyway.
I watched Mathis.
— Which part?
— Let’s get to work.
Their mother cleaned in a small hotel near the main road, at the entrance to Pontarlier.
She cleaned the rooms, changed the sheets, and cleaned the bathrooms.
Since her illness, she had already missed several days.
She was afraid that her hours would be reduced even further.
« She told us she couldn’t afford to stay at home, » Mathis explained.
I remained silent.
There was something unbearable about the idea of this woman who had almost collapsed in her kitchen and yet had still gone out to change the sheets of people on vacation.
« And your father? » I asked softly.
Mathis lowered his eyes.
— He no longer lives with us.
I understood from his tone that he did not wish to say any more.
I didn’t insist.
— Why before noon?
— The pharmacy closes at noon today. The pharmacist said he would keep the box aside until closing time.
— And you decided to clear the snow off the houses in the neighborhood to find the money?
Mathis nodded.
— We tried asking people we know last night. But no one could give us that much information. So this morning, we went out with the shovels.
— Since what time?
— About six o’clock.
I looked at their soaked shoes.
Their fingers were red.
The adhesive tape wrapped around the broken handle.
Two children had left their home before sunrise to try to pay for their mother’s heart treatment.
And when they asked me for twenty euros, I thought I was getting a good deal.
I have never felt so small.
« How much do you need? » I asked.
Mathis opened his hand.
The seven banknotes were crumpled.
— With this, we have more than enough for the pharmacy. We still had to do two or three more houses, but now we can go directly there.
Noah whispered:
— And will we be able to buy something to eat?
Mathis turned towards him.
— We’ll see later.
That little phrase hurt me more than anything else.
We’ll see later.
As if eating were something that could only be decided upon once all other problems were solved.
I reopened my wallet.
I took out two more twenty euro notes.
Mathis immediately stepped back.
— No, sir. Really, that’s already too much.
— Take them.
— But we didn’t win them.
— You’ve done an excellent job. And now you have one more important thing to do.
I placed the tickets in his hand.
— First, the medicine. Then, you buy yourself something hot to eat.
He still wanted to protest.
I cut him off.
— And you tell your mother that my driveway was cleared of snow by two professionals.
Noah burst into a small laugh amidst his tears.
Mathis smiled too.
But just for a second.
Then his face became serious again.
— Sir, can I ask you something?
– Of course.
— Why are you giving us all this? You don’t even know us.
I didn’t have a good answer.
I looked at my driveway, all clean.
Then the two shovels.
— Because I know what it’s like to need help and not know who to ask.
That was true.
When Madeleine fell ill, I spent weeks pretending that I was handling the situation very well.
The races.
The appointments.
The housework.
Sleepless nights.
I always gave the same answer to our neighbors:
« No, no, it’s fine. Thank you. »
When things weren’t going well at all.
I was simply too proud to admit it.
I watched Mathis.
— Does your mother know you went out?
— Yes. She knows we wanted to try and make some money. But she didn’t want us to do it.
– For what ?
— She says we’re not responsible for her problems.
Noah sniffed.
— But she’s our mother.
No one responded.
There was nothing to add to that.
I finally said:
— Do you have his number?
Mathis took out his phone.
– Yes.
— Call her when you’ve picked up the medication. Also tell her that if she’s still dizzy, she needs to get checked out right away. Okay?
– All right.
— And now, run. Before you turn into ice cubes.
They put their gloves back on.
Mathis carefully folded the tickets and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Noah picked up his broken shovel.
Before going down the steps, he turned around.
– Sir ?
– Yes ?
— The hot chocolate… it was really good.
I smiled.
— You can come back for another drink. Even without a shovel.
He nodded.
Then the two brothers left for the snowy street.
Mathis was walking fast.
Noah was almost running to keep up with him.
I watched them until they disappeared around the corner.
Then I went home.
My coffee was cold.
I emptied it down the sink.
For a long time, I stood in the kitchen, doing nothing.
The two mugs of hot chocolate were still on the table.
Noah’s had a small brown mark on the edge.
I didn’t wash it right away.
I was thinking about Madeleine.
How she would have reacted if she had been there.
I knew her well enough to know that she would have brought those boys into the kitchen before even mentioning the snow.
And she would probably have scolded me if she had found out that I had considered having them do all this work for twenty euros.
I could almost hear his voice:
« Come on, Jean, you can see they’re cold! »
I felt like telling him what had just happened.
As I always used to do when something happened to me.
Then I remembered, once again, that she was no longer there.
This time, however, the silence of the house did not seem as oppressive.
The following Monday, around four o’clock, someone knocked on my door.
I was repairing an old lamp in the living room.
I opened it.
They were Mathis and Noah.
This time they wore dry clothes, and Noah had a blue cap on his head.
Mathis was holding a bakery bag.
— Good morning, sir. Are we disturbing you?
— Not at all. Come in.
— We just wanted to thank you.
He handed me the bag.
Inside, there were three croissants.
— It was Mom who insisted. She wanted to come herself, but she’s resting.
I took the bag.
— How is she?
Mathis’s face relaxed.
— Better. We got the medication Saturday morning. She was able to speak to the doctor and she was examined. He told her not to return to work until her dizziness had passed.
— And what about the refund?
— The pharmacy is helping him sort out the problem with his file. Mom said it would all work out.
He looked relieved.
Not completely carefree.
But at least he no longer had that panicked look from Saturday morning.
« She asked me to tell you something, » added Mathis.
— I’m listening.
He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
— She wrote it for you.
I unfolded it.
The writing was small, slightly slanted.
» Sir,
My boys told me what you did for them.
They were so proud of their work that they started by telling me about your driveway, before even explaining the rest.
Thank you for helping them, but especially for not making them feel ashamed to ask.
Since Saturday, Noah has been repeating everywhere that he is a professional snow removal man.
Thank you for giving them this pride.
Sophie.
I reread the word twice.
On the second reading, my vision blurred.
I took off my glasses to wipe them.
— Your mother writes well.
Mathis smiled.
— She reads a lot.
Noah, who was looking behind me, caught sight of the kitchen.
— Mr. Jean?
It was the first time he had called me by my first name.
— Yes, Noah?
— Do you still have hot chocolate?
Mathis gave him a little nudge with his elbow.
— But come on, Noah! We didn’t come here for that!
I burst out laughing.
A real laugh.
The kind of laughter that surprised even me since Madeleine left.
— Imagine, I just bought some chocolate powder.
Noah looked at me.
– Really ?
— Really. But this time, you’ll drink it sitting at a table, not outside in minus eight.
They went in.
I took out three mugs.
While the milk was heating, Mathis told me that his homeroom teacher had given them a presentation to prepare.
Noah told me about a football match he wanted to participate in the following Wednesday.
They were bickering gently.
They were leaving croissant crumbs everywhere.
Noah spilled some chocolate on the tablecloth and tried to discreetly wipe it up with his sleeve.
I saw him do it.
I pretended not to notice anything.
After half an hour, Mathis looked at his phone.
— We need to go home. Mom will worry.
They put on their coats.
Before leaving, Mathis stopped on the threshold.
— Mr. Jean, if it snows again, you can call us. We’ll come back and clear the driveway.
I nodded.
— Okay. But next time, we’ll set a fair price from the start.
He smiled.
— I promise.
Then Noah added:
— And can we take a hot chocolate break?
— That’s included in the contract.
They both laughed.
When the door closed, I went back into the kitchen.
Three dirty mugs.
Crumbs on the table.
A chocolate stain on the tablecloth.
I could have cleaned everything immediately.
Instead, I sat down for a while.
For the past three years, my house has been spotless.
Perhaps too perfect.
There was almost never any noise, almost never any unexpected visits.
That Monday, for the first time in a long time, I had something else to do than look at the clock while waiting for evening.
I put Sophie’s note in the drawer where I keep Madeleine’s letters.
And the following Saturday, when a few centimeters of snow fell again on my driveway, I picked up my phone.
I sent a message to Mathis:
« Hello professionals. There’s a small construction site at my place. But come after you’ve slept in. Hot chocolate for two. »
He replied to me a few minutes later:
« Okay, Mr. Jean. Mom is asking if she can come and thank you in person. »
I looked at the kitchen.
Then the three mugs that were drying near the sink.
I replied:
« Of course. I’ll prepare four cups. »
And I went to buy some croissants.