Neighbors

We have lived here in Waterloo for a little less than a year. We are rather bad at mowing. We’re trying to turn our yard into a farm. We host a bass-heavy, Friday-night band practice in our barn. Also, our children like to yell and invite themselves over places and politely inquire as to the possibilities of food. If you were a stickler for neatness and predictable behavior, the Webster-Heins probably wouldn’t find a slot on your fantasy neighbor list.

And yet. Over the course of this past week, one neighbor has gifted me antibacterial cleaner. Another has dropped off literal pounds of free bacon. Another has left on my porch a Mary Kay Satin Hand Set to combat the deleterious effects of all this handwashing. And another has sent me a bottle of lavender calming spray, along with a card that made me cry.

I had already counted us fortunate to have landed here with these people. But now I’m much more cognizant of the great comfort that we’re all close by, if unseen, keeping watch out our windows, waiting together.

Published by Michelle

Writer, reader, homesteader, pluralist Mennonite

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