The first snow arrived on a Saturday in December.

Toby and I walked to the workshop together, our breath white in the morning air.

In the window, someone had placed a hand-painted sign that read WINTER RIDES, WARM HEARTS.

Walter stood inside sorting children’s helmets by size.

His hands were stiff in the cold, but he wore the expression of a man who had somewhere he was expected to be.

Keisha introduced a volunteer coordinator who had helped secure a small transportation grant.