Something happened on the near periphery of my life. Something involving a child I knew just a little, just enough to know her name, to say hi, to wave to her parents in the car, really it was hardly there at all. The small connection tenuous from a time a friend of hers lived under my roof at boarding school was quickly forgotten. Until I saw the news and heard her name. She was 18, with a younger sister just three years older than my Thinker. She had a mother, a father and a home.
I’ve walked around this week greatly aware of risk, a cold chill in my heart as my children play in a big yard with cars around the front and a brook on the side. Fear, as my baby toddles from the car to the porch, up two concrete steps, knowing he moves slow and that cars pull into driveways all the time – yet his own urge to independently accomplish this task calls out louder than my fears.
Ever so bravely we went to Stop and Shop where I let Thinker return the cart on his own, just across the row, watching, trying not to blink. Strangers stopped their cars, smiled and waved encouragingly. I’m trying to drink in their kindness, their care; to somehow let their faith in neighborliness make mine a little stronger.
“Who is my neighbor?” Jesus was asked. This simple story resulted in the spinning of a yarn most Sunday School kids know by age 6, The Good Samaritan. But rarely do I read such familiar Bible passages these days, having been perhaps a bit over-sunday-schooled in my own youth, I find it hard to find the shine on things when they answers have been rehearsed over so many classes, camps and chapels. But today, I am looking for that shine. The Teacher tends to answer question for question and after his story this is his:
They mercy we have one another is an eternal thing, it matters very deeply in all moments, but especially in moments when one of us is suffering. What happened to Hayley is unspeakably bad. I must dig deep to find the faith to remind myself that she is in eternally loving hands from this moment forward.
In honor of good neighboring and as a way for myself to continue in faith, hope and love, I echo the sentiments of the family whose loved ones have been taking for them:
One of the those neighborly moments of blogosphere magic is happening and you can learn more about Parker‘s needs here. I know already in your hearts you know how to be merciful – as good neighbors always are in times of need and in joy.
That was a horrific story. Just awful.Sigh.
That was a horrific story. Just awful.Sigh.
Oh. Oh. Horrible. Tragic. But thank you for reaching deep and out to find humanity, despite it.
Oh. Oh. Horrible. Tragic. But thank you for reaching deep and out to find humanity, despite it.
I, too, live close to that horrible tragedy. Thinking of you, my little ones, my family, my friends… it’s truly horrible.Take good care, dear neighbor of mine.
I, too, live close to that horrible tragedy. Thinking of you, my little ones, my family, my friends… it’s truly horrible.Take good care, dear neighbor of mine.
What a terrible, terrible story. That poor girl. Her poor family.Loving people the way Jesus commanded is a constant struggle for me – and not one that I think I’m winning – but I am TRYING.
What a terrible, terrible story. That poor girl. Her poor family.Loving people the way Jesus commanded is a constant struggle for me – and not one that I think I’m winning – but I am TRYING.
Thinking of you as you wrestle with the closeness of this wretched act.
Thinking of you as you wrestle with the closeness of this wretched act.