I was thinking about this very thing as I pulled into my neighborhood tonight after two days in Charlotte. I had spent the last 10 minutes of the drive thinking of all the things I need to get done and promising myself that—for once—I would actually make a list prioritizing those tasks. If I could go to bed feeling as if I had accomplished the right things, maybe some modicum of balance would return by morning.
As I turned into my driveway I saw my neighbor, Bruce, toting trash cans to the curb.
Dang, I thought. There’s something else I need to do. And since I forgot Trash Day last week, this will really be a pain.
I had hardly gotten out of my car when Bruce appeared in my garage—still dressed in a tie from work—with an offer to take my trash and recyclables up my long driveway to the curb.
I thought you could use some help, he said.
A few minutes later, the car unpacked and mail sorted, my doorbell rang. It was Bruce’s daughter, Macie, delivering a bowl of chili and some just-out-of-the-oven cornbread.
Mom thought you might be hungry, she said.
I know my neighbors gave little thought tonight to these gestures. I have learned from living next door that it’s just their nature to give. (And as such, they are rearing two beautiful children who are learning some really valuable lessons.)
But it truly did make a big difference to me. My neighbors helped lighten my load, and in doing so, reminded me that there isn’t much in this world that is more important than kindness.
30 Days of Grace