My Neighborhood Cookie Exchange

One day, several neighbors got together to share stories and a cup of coffee. The snow from the night before had buried their street in 8 inches of marshmallow-like coating. We are not all the same kind of neighbors on our street. Some homes are upscale, some are modest. We are very different people in these homes; age, religious affiliations, and political ideas should separate us. For some reason, those viewpoints do not.

Each neighbor brought a homemade treat, in bags or on plates, for their friends. I took 9 bags of caramels, I received 9 plates of treats in exchange.

We caught up on children and grandchildren, life and love, deaths and illnesses, and planned a spring garage sale. The woman that had had heart trouble was there. We talked of pacemakers, upcoming graduation parties, and college plans. We talked of weather. When one mentioned that she was snowbound without flour for baking, 2 neighbors offered theirs. Another, a hunter widow, was wondering how to get her driveway cleared. When she pointed out the window at which one was her home, a neighbor man was already out with his snow blower, blazing a trail down her sidewalk. Problems solved over poppyseed quick bread and hot tea. It felt like communion to me.

Three hours flew by and I arrived back home with stories and goodies. I realize not all our neighbors joined us for a morning. I realize not all the neighbors wanted to join us. Not all our neighbors care that I think this neighborhood is pretty terrific. and tasty. But most of all, I realize that what separates us is not as strong as what joins us.

Lawnmowers in Harmony

Once upon a time in a neighborhood right next to yours, a man got ill. He was not a well known man, he was not particularly successful or saintly; he was a neighbor. Over the fence he told of doctors and appointments. "They aren't sure what's wrong," he said, while biting his lower lip. And while Dwayne sat in white rooms, the green grass grew.

The next door neighbor was a man. He was also not a well known man, not particularly successful or saintly, but he was a neighbor. When the full sun shown, he mowed his grass, and just kept mowing. He mowed right across the dotted line that separates neighbors' grasses. He walked back and forth, back and forth. And an elderly neighbor on the other side noticed him.

"What are you doing?", asked the elderly man. He was a retired man, and he was a neighbor. "I'm mowing Dwayne's lawn. He needs some help right now".

Without any more questions, the elderly man nodded and came out from his garage with his riding lawnmower. "It'll go faster together", he said. And two helped one.

Again the next weekend, without a word, the neighbors mowed across the grasses, boundaries gone, in tandem, in unity.

This to me is a picture of the kingdom. It's here, it's now, and it's a beautiful day.