I’m hip-blasting this one, so forgive the typos and grammar if it fails.
I was walking around the neighborhood this morning as I do everyday to think and pray. I saw some neighbors I’ve never met loading a van full of furniture into their house. One man looked very frail. I greeted the passing family members and kept walking and suddenly felt that I should offer to help. I felt awkward about it, and kept walking.
After about 150 yards my conscience caught up with me. Why go for a walk every morning to get closer to God if I won’t even offer to help a neighbor?
I walked back, introduced myself and said, “Would you like any help carrying all this stuff?”
They assured me, “No, no, its alright.”
“Yes. Are you from America?”
We chitter-chatted a little. They insisted they didn’t need help. And I discovered there were more able-bodied men about helping with the move. That’s good. I said, “God bless you, then, and have a great day!” And I meant it, praying a thicker blessing over their household and family as I walked on.
Good neighbors used to be normal. We’re not used to them anymore, and I can understand why someone wouldn’t initially want a stranger helping them carry stuff in and out of their house. But, as a result, we were introduced. Maybe next time I can help them with something.
A woman I once helped dig her car out of the snow in Connecticut, USA offered me money for my help. I said, “Good neighbors are free.” And so they should be.
What’s that line? “Love your neighbor as yourself, and pray for those who persecute you…”
It was a good reminder to me to push myself outside my little personal social comfort-zone bubble and be a little more loving. We could use more of that in the world, couldn’t we?