The Gift of Good Neighbors

“We saw a puff of dust so we knew something was wrong. Then we saw you running like a streak so we came over to help.”
- George & Carolyn Showell

The Gift of Good Neighbors

The darkness enveloped me as I began to stir. A new day was beginning and I knew just what I was going to do. Even though it was dark and the cold seemed to seize my muscles, I kept moving because the thought of the sun peaking above the mountain motivated me.

Small ice crystals covered the grass and I watched them begin to glisten just before they vanished in the emerging dawn. The world was beginning to awaken and I was about to blast it awake with the noise of machinery.

I have a lot of grass to mow. This week I had even more than usual amount of grass to mow because the grass in my pasture was getting too deep; too deep even for the horses to eat, so I was going to cut it. Besides, if it didn’t get cut it would soon begin to go dormant so I acted.

“It’s a good thing my neighbors aren’t real close,” I thought. If I lived in the city my neighbors would certainly be unhappy with the roar of an engine at 6:30 a.m. But here, rather than thinking a lawn tractor had climbed into bed with them, they would merely hear a slight noise. At least, that’s what I was hoping as I backed out of the garage to begin my slashing.

About two hours later the engine sputtered slightly and then died immediately. I had mowed a little more than half the field the night before and hadn’t refilled the gas tank, so I knew I was out of gas. I got off the tractor, walked to its back and peered at the fuel level stripes on the outside of the tank. Yes indeed. I was out of gas with only one pass left!

The horses surrounded me and began to take in deep breaths as they inhaled. They are curious animals and this was their chance to check me and my machine out without noise and continuous movement. I walked past them to the garage, grabbed hold of the heavy gas canister and lifted it back past the horses. Then I unscrewed the cap and watched the rainbow colored fuel be gulped up by the machine.

I lifted the half empty can on to my lap and turned the key. My first attempt to start the engine failed, but the second one didn’t. I began to cut my last bit of grass as I drove toward the open gate. Once through the gate I hesitated briefly. I remember thinking, “I should shut this gate.”

However, I could see the garage not far away and I really didn’t want to stop and have to lift the canister up two more times when it wasn’t necessary, so I drove on. I have left the gate down lots of times and the horses just stay in the pasture. Why wouldn’t they, the grass was plentiful and it was their home.

I got to the garage, turned off the machine and put the gas can down. I turned around and watched the horses pass through the gate. Fear gripped my heart because when I was a child one of my horses got out onto the highway and was hit by a car. That scene, from so many years ago, was freshened and alive in my mind now. I was hoping I could simply herd them the few feet back into the safety of the pasture.

It was not to be. When I approached them they bolted out to the street!

As it turns out my friend Clayton Dunn was driving past. He stopped and asked if he could help.

I said yes!

We tried to herd them, but they were uncooperative.

Then my next door neighbors came out. The entire family! They began to spread out so we could create a human net.

As we started, a reddish car pulled up. It was the Showells from across the neighborhood. They pulled over, got out of their car and became links to the huge net we had created to surround the frightened horses.

Within moments we had the horses moving toward home. We all ran a little. We all pushed with our voices a little. We were successful. I latched the gate and thanked everyone from the bottom of my heart!

The Gearos simply said, “You’ve done it for us before.”

Clayton simply said, “You’re welcome,” and resumed his drive to work.

The Showells stayed and talked with me for a minute and told me of how they had been watching me. (They live a mile and a half away.) They said, “We saw a puff of dust so we knew something was wrong. Then we saw you running like a streak so we came over to help.”
And, help they all did!

It is one thing to live next door or near someone else. It’s another to be a neighbor! My neighbors have demonstrated the difference to me over and over again. They are important to me and I treasure them. I can only hope to be a great neighbor to them in return.

Do you remember when it was common to go to a neighbor to borrow a cup of sugar or milk? Do you remember when we knew all of our neighbors? Do you remember when being a neighbor made you want to feel watchful and caring?

To have a great life, be a great neighbor. Of all the titles I have aspired to, the title of neighbor is one of the most valuable and important. Be a good neighbor; become a great friend and you’ll find true wealth, importance and joy beyond measure!