I live in a beautiful destination valley in Northern California in a 1910 old Victorian. It does not pass me by that I am very very privileged. I moved here 17 years ago.
Next door to me is section 8 housing. Not what most people would like to have right next door to them! When I first moved in 3 “skinheads” lived there in a one bedroom apartment. They were scary to say the least. I didn’t want to make eye contact with them. But I pretended that they were nice neighbors and began to smile and say hello. They would nod and reply back, most of the time with their heads down. One particular day, I had decided that I needed a heavy piece of furniture moved up a very narrow staircase into the top floor. I couldn’t do it nor could my child. So, I walked over next door and asked for help all the while screaming in my head what are you doing inviting them into your home?! The one who answered the door said sure he’d help. A big muscular guy. He moved the furniture and nothing bad happened as a result of asking for that help. At Christmas I dropped by a homemade goodie.
Through the years there have been some not so pleasant people live there and some very pleasant people and I’ve always made it a point to introduce myself and welcome them to the neighborhood.
Most recently, a single man in his 60’s moved in. It was very clear just looking at him that he had had a very tough life. The stoop to his front door is such that he can see over my backyard fence and into the street on the other side. My first encounter with Walter was him standing on his stoop yelling profanities and racial slurs at some Hispanic men who live across the street who by the way, ran to my house in the early morning hours after an earthquake to check on me and make sure I was alright. They are wonderful men. So my neighbor is yelling at them loudly. I walk over to speak with Walter. It was clear he was on something. I told him I didn’t appreciate his language or slurs and that those men were my friends and had a much right as anyone else to stand on the sidewalk in the shade under my neighbors tree in a hot day. He tried to engage me in some arguing but I just asked him to please stop yelling, go inside if he felt it necessary to continue doing it and walked away.
Over the weeks and months my Walter would pop his head over the fence and try to converse with me. I would politely chat but quickly get out of any conversation. I started learning that he had been homeless prior to getting this place and that yes indeed, he had substance abuse issues as well as other things.
One day, I decided to “pretend” that he was one of the best neighbors I had ever lived next to.
I own chickens and had recently acquired 3 more hens. The coop I had needed an addition added to accommodate the new hens. Walter, had recently repaired and built a fence on the rental property. It was beautiful. So I walked over to Walter and asked if he could build the addition on my coop. He wanted to make sure that I knew he was not a carpenter and that he had severe arthritis on both hands that permanently bent over his pinky and ring fingers and that it was sometimes difficult for him to figure things out. I told him it didn’t matter to me, and that I would pay him for the job. He took it on.
What I had in mind for the coop was this beautifully painted bead board front with a window box. But Walter had other ideas. Ones that worked for his brain. He found some 150 year old barn wood that he got for free and turned my coop into this amazing rustic, beautiful coop. He struggled a lot but I saw his creativity and his ability to be scrappy and use “junk” and turn it into something beautiful.
As the neighborhood saw this beautiful creation he made, neighbors started asking him to help them with little projects. Has Walter still got problems? Yes! He does. However, he has changed. The drinking has stopped and he will stop and talk with people in the neighborhood. He told me that feeling like he was a part of the neighborhood was the best thing that has ever happened to him.
Now, when he pops over the fence to chat, I totally engage with my new friend and neighbor, grateful that I “pretended” he was the best neighbor I ever had.
I wanted to insert a photo of Walter and the coop, but I don’t see how to do that.
Oh my gosh! Suzanne! What an amazing story. Obsessed with the idea of pretending you have perfect neighbors- I'm going to implement immediately. Thank you so much for sharing this- what a treasure.
I live in a beautiful destination valley in Northern California in a 1910 old Victorian. It does not pass me by that I am very very privileged. I moved here 17 years ago.
Next door to me is section 8 housing. Not what most people would like to have right next door to them! When I first moved in 3 “skinheads” lived there in a one bedroom apartment. They were scary to say the least. I didn’t want to make eye contact with them. But I pretended that they were nice neighbors and began to smile and say hello. They would nod and reply back, most of the time with their heads down. One particular day, I had decided that I needed a heavy piece of furniture moved up a very narrow staircase into the top floor. I couldn’t do it nor could my child. So, I walked over next door and asked for help all the while screaming in my head what are you doing inviting them into your home?! The one who answered the door said sure he’d help. A big muscular guy. He moved the furniture and nothing bad happened as a result of asking for that help. At Christmas I dropped by a homemade goodie.
Through the years there have been some not so pleasant people live there and some very pleasant people and I’ve always made it a point to introduce myself and welcome them to the neighborhood.
Most recently, a single man in his 60’s moved in. It was very clear just looking at him that he had had a very tough life. The stoop to his front door is such that he can see over my backyard fence and into the street on the other side. My first encounter with Walter was him standing on his stoop yelling profanities and racial slurs at some Hispanic men who live across the street who by the way, ran to my house in the early morning hours after an earthquake to check on me and make sure I was alright. They are wonderful men. So my neighbor is yelling at them loudly. I walk over to speak with Walter. It was clear he was on something. I told him I didn’t appreciate his language or slurs and that those men were my friends and had a much right as anyone else to stand on the sidewalk in the shade under my neighbors tree in a hot day. He tried to engage me in some arguing but I just asked him to please stop yelling, go inside if he felt it necessary to continue doing it and walked away.
Over the weeks and months my Walter would pop his head over the fence and try to converse with me. I would politely chat but quickly get out of any conversation. I started learning that he had been homeless prior to getting this place and that yes indeed, he had substance abuse issues as well as other things.
One day, I decided to “pretend” that he was one of the best neighbors I had ever lived next to.
I own chickens and had recently acquired 3 more hens. The coop I had needed an addition added to accommodate the new hens. Walter, had recently repaired and built a fence on the rental property. It was beautiful. So I walked over to Walter and asked if he could build the addition on my coop. He wanted to make sure that I knew he was not a carpenter and that he had severe arthritis on both hands that permanently bent over his pinky and ring fingers and that it was sometimes difficult for him to figure things out. I told him it didn’t matter to me, and that I would pay him for the job. He took it on.
What I had in mind for the coop was this beautifully painted bead board front with a window box. But Walter had other ideas. Ones that worked for his brain. He found some 150 year old barn wood that he got for free and turned my coop into this amazing rustic, beautiful coop. He struggled a lot but I saw his creativity and his ability to be scrappy and use “junk” and turn it into something beautiful.
As the neighborhood saw this beautiful creation he made, neighbors started asking him to help them with little projects. Has Walter still got problems? Yes! He does. However, he has changed. The drinking has stopped and he will stop and talk with people in the neighborhood. He told me that feeling like he was a part of the neighborhood was the best thing that has ever happened to him.
Now, when he pops over the fence to chat, I totally engage with my new friend and neighbor, grateful that I “pretended” he was the best neighbor I ever had.
I wanted to insert a photo of Walter and the coop, but I don’t see how to do that.
Oh my gosh! Suzanne! What an amazing story. Obsessed with the idea of pretending you have perfect neighbors- I'm going to implement immediately. Thank you so much for sharing this- what a treasure.
I love Ayana’s poem. I got so much more out of it after reading your post and revisiting it. Thank you!
I loved it so much. Gave me goosebumps.
As my eyes drink the lunar waters of the night.
Quenched by the mystery of it all.
I reflect the Sun that reflects to me
And thank Him for being there still.
Even darkness, betrayer of the known
Has made some room for light
So amongst the throne of celestial powers
We are never alone.
Celeste I feel so uplifted and inspired by this right now. Thank you so much.
Yay! I'm so glad Debbie :) Thanks for telling me.
This is really beautiful and inspiring. Thank you for sharing, I can already see this changing my life.