Hi, neighbors, hi, friends! I live in that house over in southwest Willmar, the one with the clean sidewalk. I don’t mind shoveling; I need the exercise. I’d feel bad if anybody got hurt in front of my house. I notice things when I shovel snow. I notice that mine is the only house on the block, either side, with a shoveled sidewalk. It’s difficult for me to understand why none of the other sidewalks on my block have been shoveled, even once, since winter began. I notice these things. I notice that you’re busy, neighbor, maybe too busy to shovel? Maybe at work, perhaps taking care of your children, Friend, or likely stocking up on groceries for when the bad weather comes our way? I don’t mind, and I understand. And I’ll check to see if you’re OK. I can’t help but notice the sidewalks: When I walked to the rehab clinic for physical therapy, I walked in the street because it was safer. It was also easier to cross the street because I didn’t have to climb over a snowbank at the crosswalk. When walking down the street, I usually wave at drivers for two reasons: first, because I enjoy saying “hi” to people; and second, because I’m always grateful when they see me before they reach me and give me a wide berth. My cane helps me keep my balance on the icy street. And this winter, I’m grateful I don’t need to rely on a wheelchair. I notice that I’m slowing down. For many years, when blowing out my own sidewalk, if I noticed that yours needed it, the chances were good that I would just keep going, and blow your sidewalk too; and as long as I had gone that far anyway, why not blow out the crosswalk? You are very welcome, no thanks needed. I value you as my neighbor, and wish I could do more. But I notice that following my fourth heart attack with open-heart surgery along with my Parkinson’s disease progression I have really slowed down lately. Today, I notice I don’t feel strong enough to wrestle with my snow blower, so I just shoveled my sidewalk. And I’m feeling disappointed, because I didn’t have the energy to shovel yours, too. I hope to be a better neighbor in the future, but I notice it’s getting harder to do things like that, things I used to take for granted. Good Neighbor, I notice you’re coming and going. I understand that your life pulls you in all kinds of directions, the least of which is to shovel your walkway. I wish we could get to know each other better. Could you use a hand? I’d make a good listener if that would help. Maybe there’s something I could do. Or maybe you could use some help beyond what I could offer? I bet if you called one of our local churches, they could find someone who’d be happy to help a neighbor maybe by shoveling for you, or perhaps by donating some money to a local young person who shovels? We help each other, that’s what good neighbors do. If you ever want to say, “Hi, these are the days I wish I could know my neighbors better. And I really appreciate making new friends. It doesn’t matter to me where you’ve been, what you’ve done, or what you’re trying to overcome- you are precious in God’s sight and that makes you precious in mine too. So let’s be better neighbors, check in on each other, become better friends, and keep better tabs on each other. Life offers so much more than a snowy sidewalk on a difficult day. Bless you, Good Neighbor!.
https://www.wctrib.com/opinion/columns/roy-stiff-be-a-good-neighbor-by-helping-others