Cardinal act of laziness
I spent a summer on crutches when I was a kid. My grandfather let me mope around for a while.
Then he pointed out to me that we're all given different gifts. And that the gift of being talented is not much greater of a gift than being able to hear, or see. Or walk.
During a recent snowstorm, I went to a local store, one of the big ones. And although the parking lot was far from full, I was surprised to find no shopping carts inside.
On a hunch, I went back outside to look. And sure enough, many of the carts had been left in the parking spaces reserved for people who cannot walk, by people who can.
The cardinal act of laziness, in other words.
I spent the next 15 minutes clearing those spaces. Some other people helped, too, when they saw what I was doing. We got plenty cold and miserable, but not as bad as we'd have felt while slugging wheelchairs 30 yards through that blizzard.
I can't speak for the others who helped, but I did that out of a sense of teamwork — and to thank God for all the great gifts.