My Favorite Neighbor

My favorite neighbor is Eve, who baked cookies, and who left an email address and a phone number right when I moved in.

So many of my neighbors are enmeshed in private dramas--and they just spill out the details. They spill and spill. One couple has twins, and they're teething, and they don't sleep. Another is living through a difficult, long holiday from school, with her small child; she says, "If I have to watch Frozen one more time, I'll kill myself." A third whispers to me, as if to a priest: "A good friend of mine voted for Trump. She said she understood the implications, but casting that vote would just (potentially) make a big family-money issue much easier, in the short term...."

I'm interested in all of these stories, but I'm happiest to see Eve, who just expresses unfeigned gratitude for nice weather. Or who points to my daughter's flannel bunting and asks, "Don't you wish you yourself could wear one of those things?" Or who claps with enthusiasm when she spots me on a "solo" walk. "You've shed your children! Now run! RUN!!!!"

The only other thing I know about Eve is that she has recently battled cancer--and it would be easy to speculate that her graciousness has grown out of this life experience. A visit with your own mortality can help you to adjust your priorities, etc. But really I think that circumstances just *reveal* your character; circumstances don't determine who you are. I have a sense that Eve was a rockstar even when she was in good health.

I think everything matters. Eve spends maybe two minutes with me, per week, and she makes an impact.

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