Recently, my younger sister (78) was out early one wintry morning shoveling snow from our walk. When she came in from the cold, I greeted her with sympathy and hot tea, and told her I couldn't imagine how worn out she must be.

"No, not really," she said.

My sister explained that soon after she began, a car pulled up and a woman she'd never met parked, left her car and approached.

"You look like you could use a little help," the woman said, when she saw my sister struggling. The woman took the shovel, cleared the walk and then the driveway.

My sister thanked her profusely, but was so shocked, she forgot to get her name. The woman returned to her car and drove away.

Not only do we want to take this opportunity to thank this kind and generous person, but to acknowledge that in this day and age, there are still those good souls who will simply stop and take the time to give a helping hand when needed.

-- HELEN GISSER, Stanton Heights

On Saturday, March 9, my son was driving on Route 22 West in North Fayette on his way to the Saturday night performance of his high school musical, of which he was a chorus member. On a bridge just before the exit, he spun out on the snow-covered road and ended up in the left lane facing the wrong direction.

The car was totaled, and miraculously my son was not injured, only shook up. Thankfully, no one was in the left lane beside him.

A PennDOT driver in a salt/plow truck was coming down the hill behind him and immediately came to help my son. This wonderful man stopped traffic in the left lane and got out and calmed down my son, called the state police and then stopped traffic completely, so my son could get his car on the right shoulder facing in the right direction.

This is the first accident that my son experienced. This kind, caring and sympathetic driver stayed with my son until he knew I was on my way. He then actually apologized that he couldn't stay until I arrived.

I thank God for this man, for helping my son -- and also for calling the state police. When I had called the state police, right after receiving my son's call, they told me they were too busy to come to the scene of the accident. But when I arrived at the scene, an officer was already there because the PennDOT driver had called. Without this angel in a plow truck, who knows what would have happened.

Unfortunately, my son was too shook up to get the driver's name, but if that PennDOT driver reads this, I hope he knows that there is a mom of a teenage driver who is incredibly thankful that he was there to help my son. "Thank you" just doesn't seem enough.

-- ELIZABETH SHANNON, North Fayette

I want to thank the person who returned my postage stamps to the counter at the South Side Post Office on Carson Street on March 3 at approximately 3 p.m.

When I discovered they were missing, I retraced my route and returned to the post office thinking I would have to buy more stamps. I was quite surprised when the counterman said they had been returned. I dropped them in the foyer and someone returned them to the counter.

Again, thank you to the soul who returned them.

-- IVAN L. ENGEL, Squirrel Hill

Early on the evening of Feb. 29, I was returning home after a day trip to Harrisburg. My car got stuck in the snow on Forbes Avenue between Dallas and Beechwood. It simply would not move. I was barely able to move over the right to let the cars pass.

About 30 minutes later, a man driving a four-wheel-drive truck passed me, stopped and then apologized for not having a rope to drag me up the hill. About 20 minutes later, the man reappeared, passed me and parked his red truck in the cemetery driveway. He offered to help drive the car --but he proved no better than I in getting the car up the hill.

Then he decided to try backing my car down the hill -- and sent me out to stop the traffic on Dallas. He backed the car up on Dallas facing Forbes. I got in, turned left and was able to head back down Forbes, left on Braddock, down to Penn Avenue and finally home. I forgot to ask the man his name. I am very grateful that a stranger stopped to help.

-- JUDY LAVE, Oakland