The Myth of Neighborliness

     I must admit that one of the reasons I moved to the country was the myth of neighborliness.  No, I don't mean the myth exposed by Frost in "Mending Wall."  You know, "the good fences make good neighbors" lie.  And, of course, the Bible's view of neighborliness is not a myth.  We are to "love our neighbors as ourselves."  In fact, that commandment has received a serious upgrade.  "Love one another AS I HAVE LOVED YOU."  No, the myth I had in mind was that in the country where neighbors are more separated geographically, there exists a deeper concern and helpfulness than one would find in the city where folks live right next door to each other.  I must first admit that for the most part, I didn't find a great deal of neighborliness in an apartment complex.  Now, the problem may have been my naturally reclusive demeanor.  Nevertheless, it was difficult connecting.  I hoped, consequently, that the myth was true and that I would find good neighbors in the country whether there were fences or not.
    Guess what?  Speaking from my own experience--in other words I cannot claim that this is a universal truth--but I have found the myth to be true.  My neighbors are fantastic.  To the east I have Aaron and his wife Jessica and their two little ones Ella and Gage.  They have been friendly and helpful from the beginning.  Well, Gage is relatively new, but the rest of the family have been here since I first arrived.  Aaron has pulled my lawn mower out of a ditch, cut my grass when my mower broke, and even fixed a leak in my plumbing the first time I returned from taking care of my mom in South Carolina.  And it's not as if he hasn't had his own concerns.  The first winter I was here, his house burned to the ground!  And the couple of times I've been able to visit his church, I have enjoyed the old country baptist atmosphere.  Little Ella--she may be five or six by now--always shouts out "Hello, Al" whenever she sees me and often has a story to tell about school or friends or her little brother.  A little child's "hello" can do wonders for the soul.  I hope to hear the same from Gage one of these days.
     To the west I have Dennis.  He is a gentle man, a sure sign of inner strength and compassion.  He loves his animals--Bonnie, a couple of goats, and a couple of alpaca.  He feeds the birds, still gets excited when he sees deer, and wouldn't even hurt a groundhog or a squirrel I'm sure.  He's a better man than me!  Many are the times that we have had a nice neighborly chat over the back fence about life in general.  We have not solved the world's problems, just caught up on our lives past, present, and future.  The things neighbors should talk about.  And in the winter he always plows my driveway!  And trust me, it's not a little driveway.  The Hospice ladies join me in nominating him for sainthood after every snowfall.  When I first moved here, and he put his house up for sale, I was tempted to selfishly pray that he not sell it.  Thankfully, he's still here.   Good neighbors are hard to find--even when they live next door.  I've been blessed with two of them.
      So, as far as I'm concerned the myth is not a myth.  My country neighbors jump at the chance to help out a neighbor in need.  I need to be a better neighbor to them.  This I know, if I ever write a poem about neighborliness, it will end with this profound line:  "Good neighbors make good neighbors."