A Great Neighbor

There is a house at the end of a cul-de-sac, and that is where she lives.It is a brick, ranch-style home with flattop hedges immaculately trimmed by the 86-year-old resident who lives inside. A plastic owl decoy hangs from a tree in the front yard, to scare away unwelcome birds. Out back, a sprawling deck displays a wide variety of flora, including terrific Lily Washingtons. In the back yard, tomato plants flex and yellow day lilies yawn. Walking inside the house, the coffee pot is percolating and eggs are on the kitchen table. Magazines are stacked neatly on an Ottoman in the living room as (she may kill me for this) reruns of All My Children bounce off the wood paneling walls.Mildred Woods has been my next-door neighbor since I bought my house seven years ago. Since then, I have noticed how there is not a house in the neighborhood that has not been deeply affected by her love, how every roof has felt the heartsease of her embrace. I, too, have been a prime beneficiary of this benevolence. Here’s how:Mildred hacked down a pesky vine that was growing on a light pole in my front yard after I commented that it “Needed to be cut.” When I’m not at home, she edits my shrubbery to perfection and hauls the trimmings off in a wheelbarrow. One time, she paid the yard man when I wasn’t there to write a check.She looks after my house when I’m gone and gives me an update on my blueberries growing in my back yard (and lightly teases me that I didn’t even know they had bloomed). She inundates my kitchen and satisfies my sweet tooth with monthly barrages of cobbler, cookies, and muffins.She stops by just to say “hello” when time has gotten away from us. She cares for me when I am sick. She brings up my garbage can after Monday pick-up and places it in the carport. She sweeps the carport!Conversely, I am probably the worst neighbor on the planet. There are days when I have a tendency to cocoon myself in my lightly-soiled (ok, heavily-soiled) abode, escaping into the catacombs of writing, peeking through the blinds from time to time to make sure the sun is still in the sky. And there will be Mildred, out walking, soaking in the wonders of God’s creation, throwing a wave at a neighbor watering flowers or cropping a lawn. After a while, she’ll relax in her lawn chair in the front yard, under a pecan tree. Experiencing life. Nature. Basking in the wind.Every Sunday, Mildred paints up her lips and trades her work clothes for a dressier outfit. Around 10, you can expect that old Ford to be backing out of the driveway, as she makes her weekly pilgrimage to Parrish Baptist Church. And while I have never been to her church, this magazine you are reading has attended many times. Mildred makes sure that everyone in the congregation has a copy, giving high-praise for the struggling writer who quietly lives next door to her.Outsiders or youngsters bent on fun might glance into Mildred’s life and might not see a whole lot of action going on. Hers is a simple life, a repetitive life with very few luxuries and indulgences. Yard work, daily devotions, phone a friend, fix supper, in bed by 9:00. Get up the next day and do the very same. But this very simplicity is what is most admirable about her. The peace that emanates from a content widow in a cul-de-sac in Jasper, Alabama, filtering down gently into the people she touches every day.Several years ago, Mildred lost her only son and her husband. If I have done anything, I have filled the void that was left behind from the two most important men in her life. Mildred calls me her “son”, although I have done very little to deserve that classification. I have done little more than just be there. And when I’m not there, I am missed.“I look for your light,” Mildred says. “Every night, I look down to see if the light in your carport is on. And your car. It makes me feel safer.”Mildred, I look for your light, too. Of course, I’m not talking about a literal light. I’m talking about the light that shines from your spirit. You bring a lantern where things are dark, and because of you, my world is a much brighter place. Because of you, that neighborhood and every soul in it is a better person. You show us every day what it means to love your neighbor.Yes, I look for your light. And I have come to the conclusion that I didn’t find it.It found me. 78