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the cost of a good neighbour and rewriting our story

an interesting memory popped up in my facebook profile today . . .

June 12, 2010 early in the morning, I was suddenly awakened by a crashing sound outside in our backyard, and then silence. I looked out the window and couldn’t see anything; but then it occurred to me that I should be seeing a fence. I wasn’t. I watched the car who had backed into a panel of our fence and knocked it down, pull forward, and pull into the garage. The door shut.

With some incredulousness I told Dan “Someone just knocked our fence down.” He joined me at the window. I said “It was our neighbour. She just pulled into the garage.”
We went outside and took a closer look. It was a Friday. We had a dog, so going the day without a fence wasn’t gonna work. Dan took the day off work, went to Home Depot and spent the morning fixing the it. He said it really wasn’t that bad.

Before I left for the store, I posted the following in facebook ….

“our neighbour across the alley just backed into our fence, knocked out several boards and knocked down the huge stack of firewood we had lined up against it onto several perineal plants in their path, and then quietly drove back into their garage and shut the door (while I watched from the window). … ”

Several people responded to my post; my daughter’s response (she knows her mom) was:

“firewood . . . fence . . . whatever. Plants! Boy are they in trouble!”

Some time in the morning, after I had left for work, Dan went over to talk to the neighbour. His wife was just driving away as he got there. The neighbour apologized. His wife had some distress and was on her way to a doctor’s appointment. I do not remember what the story was, not even sure we heard it, but I know there was one. And clearly it was an accident; the kind of accident that your newly driving teenager might have had. As the parent of that newly driving teenager, there would be a list of things one might do, including having the kid own it, and share some responsibility for repairing the damage.

Whether there was an offer to pay for the damage or to help Dan fix it, I do not recall. It wouldn’t be unlike Dan to say “don’t worry about it“, and I wasn’t there. A few days later, before I got home, the lady neighbour came to the door and gave Dan a pint jar of homemade pickled beets – with an apology.

I recall being contemplative for many months when I looked back and considered the events of that day. Who knows what goes on in someone’s mind? What the backstory of any particular event might be? What they were dealing with? It wasn’t a tragedy. No one got hurt. There was no point in losing our minds over it. And within 24 hours, it was as if it hadn’t happened – except that we had a jar of pickled beets in the fridge. But today as that memory showed up on facebook, I reflected on it again. We have been here in this house 26 years and have never really met that neighbours (other than the incidents in this post). I cannot even tell you what they looked like. Though I have spent a few hours working in the alley over the years, we have never run into each other. I wondered if she had avoided me. Or had we perhaps avoided them?

If so, therein lies a tragedy. That such a minor incident could interrupt a relationship we might have had. To be fair, we were very busy raising our five kids, managing our bookstore and Dan’s business, serving in church, and involved with our respective families and aging parents. We hadn’t given it much thought once the fence was fixed, though things like a jar of pickled beets still causes me to smile inwardly.

But we missed the opportunity to be a friend, and at least to be a better neighbour to them. We learned that her husband passed away during Covid. A missed opportunity to bring over a meal and some flowers had we known. I believe we went to a garage sale there a few years ago, and I’m pretty sure that’s where Dan bought me the wagon I use to walk to and from the community garden with my plants and tools.

I feel impressed today that its time to change our story – before it’s too late. We can be better neighbours. We can make a better story than a fence and wood pile and a jar of pickled beets.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments, and maybe even your suggestions.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

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A Fence or an Ambulance

This insightful parable of prevention may seem particularly befitting for our day, but surprisingly it was written over a century ago by a British temperance champion named Joseph Malins. It is a beautiful way of saying “Better safe than Sorry”, and it resonates deeply with me. In the interest of not wanting to curb someone’s personal choice, and to be politically correct, sometimes we shy away from simply say what needs to be said. Let’s face it, staying away from potential trouble often prevents trouble. I am grateful we have the ability to correct our mistakes, and I would never want to undermine the value of repentance and forgiveness, but truthfully, we can never undo what we did, and we cannot escape the natural consequences of our actions. What if we simply didn’t take the course to begin with?

” ‘Twas a dangerous cliff, as they freely confessed, though to walk near its crest was so pleasant;
But over its terrible edge there had slipped a duke and full many a peasant.
So the people said something would have to be done, but their projects did not at all tally;
Some said, “Put a fence ’round the edge of the cliff,” some, “An ambulance down in the valley.”

sometimes it takes stepping away and getting a better perspective to see the bigger picture and the very real danger

But the cry for the ambulance carried the day, for it spread through the neighboring city;
A fence may be useful or not, it is true, but each heart became full of pity
For those who slipped over the dangerous cliff; and the dwellers in highway and alley
Gave pounds and gave pence, not to put up a fence, but an ambulance down in the valley.

“For the cliff is all right, if you’re careful,” they said, “and, if folks even slip and are dropping,
It isn’t the slipping that hurts them so much as the shock down below when they’re stopping.”
So day after day, as these mishaps occurred, quick forth would those rescuers sally
To pick up the victims who fell off the cliff, with their ambulance down in the valley.

Then an old sage remarked: “It’s a marvel to me that people give far more attention
To repairing results than to stopping the cause, when they’d much better aim at prevention.
Let us stop at its source all this mischief,” cried he, “Come, neighbors and friends, let us rally;
If the cliff we will fence, we might almost dispense with the ambulance down in the valley.”

“Oh he’s a fanatic,” the others rejoined, “Dispense with the ambulance? Never!
He’d dispense with all charities, too, if he could; No! No! We’ll support them forever.
Aren’t we picking up folks just as fast as they fall? And shall this man dictate to us? Shall he?
Why should people of sense stop to put up a fence while the ambulance works in the valley?“

But the sensible few, who are practical too, will not bear with such nonsense much longer;
They believe that prevention is better than cure, and their party will soon be the stronger.
Encourage them then, with your purse, voice, and pen, and while other philanthropists dally,
They will scorn all pretense, and put up a stout fence on the cliff that hangs over the valley.

Better guide well the young than reclaim them when old, for the voice of true wisdom is calling.
“To rescue the fallen is good, but ’tis best to prevent other people from falling.”
Better close up the source of temptation and crime than deliver from dungeon or galley;
Better put a strong fence ’round the top of the cliff than an ambulance down in the valley.“

— Joseph Malins (1895) 

yeah, sometimes . . . . . . I guess we simply have to own it

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Prevention or Cure?

warmly,

Cindy Suelzle