Neighborly Blessings

There were a few things I thought of, looking back at some blogs. First of all, let me say that this summer was the most surreal summer on record for the Smith's to date. We have never had such a strange summer, though not entirely bad. For instance, not all our interaction with our neighbors was bad: We have two neighbors, specifically, that made our summer wonderful and memorable.

I don't want to mention any names, but one neighbor has been such a Godsend. She and her husband were prayed for and prayed for upon the completion of their home. The little 980 square foot home that had sat on their lot was demolished to make the most gorgeous home, and when it went up for sale, we just prayed and prayed that someone more kind than the contractor would move in. See, the contractor had been a bully who I caught one day with a chainsaw at the ready to cut down our lemon tree, and an old crooked oak in our backyard. He had torn down the fence while we were out, and concluded that those two trees were encroaching on his newly built home. Fortunately, those two trees are protected by some tree-hugging California laws, and were saved.

Can I just say this, as a brief aside? One time we had a free tree planted in our front yard by a city program called, "Our City Forest." The woman who came out to plant that tree did, indeed, hug it and whisper sweet nothin's to that tree before she finally let go and drove away. In fact, at one point, it got so bizarre and intimate (if you know what I mean), I pulled the kids away to give she and the tree some alone time together. Then, before budget cuts hindered her from proceeding, she mailed us update requests continually for 18 months that mandated a written response back to her, lest she come and remove the tree. We had to name that tree, give mandated updates as to its progress, and it was suggested that we talk to it as often as possible. Let me say this, when you show me the ears on a tree that's when I'll start talking to it: Otherwise, I stay pretty mum around the foliage.

The other thing that was spared when the contractor-neighbor decided to sell the house, rather than live in it, was my sanity. So, being a diligent prayer warrior, I prayed for someone kind to move in, preferably someone like-minded and easy to get along with, that had no penchant for cutting down our trees. Just a few months later, our lovely new neighbors moved in with their sweet, and sometimes precocious two dogs - more like children than dogs, really, aside from the fact that Sadie barks at planes and Sophie is obsessed with chasing squirrels.

Being nosy, our Sophie dragged an old wooden ladder across the yard and propped it up on the fence separating our yards. Tracey laughed that her "Wilson" would visit her over the fence every day, asking questions and revealing much, always wondering if Tracey could play. That is how a friendship started. That was the beginning of many blessings.

And, what a blessing and answer to prayer it has been. OK, I cannot help it, I have to say her name....Tracey became such an angel to our children. She has them over, bakes with them, plays games with them, and takes them places. She made a beautiful Creative Memories album with them for Christmas last year! She is incessantly generous with her time and thoughtfulness. I mean, who does that? And, she is a constant source of sweet encouragement to me. Really, an answer to prayer, though she may never know how much.

Then, just as we were are about to wear Tracey out, the Zyuzin's came back from Russia. I could make up their names too, but it's so much mental power that I'm not sure I could muster it. Playing professional hockey in Russia for most of the year, we only get the Zyuzin experience 4 months out of the year.

This year, the kids all seemed to be at a level that finally had them playing together, which made it easier to get to know the whole family. So nice. I think just one story adequately exemplifies the Zyuzin experience: Just two days before they left to go back to Russia this year, Teresa invited us to go with them to dinner. "A small gathering, just to say good-bye." Sounded fun, and we were definitely going to miss the excitement they had brought with them, so of course we went. While waiting for our table, the host walked up and said, "Teresa, party of 40." That was the small gathering! Forty people! With effortless aplomb, Teresa generously hosted that, and several other gatherings, without any air of complexity or bother, just kindness and warmth.

I can't deny it, our summer has also been filled with some definite weirdness: Swingers, nudists, swarms of birds that would rival anything Alfred Hitchcock imagined, and a probable home of squirrel torture.

We found a fallen baby crow in the front yard one day. With the kids in tow, nothing is left alone to die a natural death. When we find injured animals we never walk away. Instead, we look for the first spare shoe box, and an old stained towel. At some point, I will think that neither of those items will have purposeful use in my home, but for now, they sustain (for a short time) any precariously injured animal found within a two block radius of our home.

We scooped that disgusting bird into a box, as its parents dive-bombed me the entire way to the backyard. At one point, as they squawked and cawed, I had Austin get a broom to protect us, and sent the girls and the dog into the house. Almost without notice, it seemed instantly that 30 - 50 more birds appeared, cawing loudly and swooping in on us. At the moment we were trying to make the ugly little bird a safe place away from possible predators, I looked over my shoulder to the west and saw no less than 100 black crows coming in toward our home. They were in large V-shaped flocks, several. Frankly, I didn't even know that crows collected in flocks. There are some things you don't learn in Avian Sciences. Austin was using that broom like a propeller to keep the birds from making contact with our heads.

Finally, we got the ugly little bird into a blue, plastic wading pool on top of the dog run. As I was lifting it up over my head, I recalled how Jane was offered to King Kong as a sacrifice, and hoped that the birds would be pleased with our efforts to save their ugly baby. What I've learned is that crows are difficult to please. Mandy, our twelve year old dog, has also learned that it is difficult to do a number of things in the vicinity of angry crows.

That same day, Andrei, the professional hockey player across the street found a wayward hummingbird in his garage. What made us all think that Andrei could GENTLY scoot the fragile little bird out of the garage with a broom is beyond me. With one good hit to its little body, it dropped like a rock onto the roof of his car: A good shot for a puck, a dismal shot for a tender feathered creature, weighing no more than a few ounces. Fortunately, there was an empty shoebox and old towel to accommodate the seemingly dead bird. Smiling, Andrei handed it to Austin, as I gave him a look of, "I'll get you for this," and Austin skipped away toward our home, delighted to have another injured animal in our shoebox hospital ward. At that, we mused, "Isn't it dead, anyway?" Well, sometimes dead things make the best pets. Remember pet rocks? Maybe Austin wouldn't notice for a few days, I thought.

Persistently, the kids kept poking at that little hummingbird, feeding it every half hour, if not more. With the crow, we gave it water and dog food. The crows seem to like dog food, so why not start this one young? Besides, I was not going to grub around for worms or any other unsavory bug. Remember, picking around in the dry baked ground conclusively accounts for a bad day, and I don't go looking for bad days.

Just two days in our care, one bird lived and began to thrive, and the other died, feet up to the sky, flies swarming around its ugly black carcass. Eventually, Tracey and I took the hummingbird to a bird sanctuary where there is surprisingly, one designated hummingbird expert, waiting for hummingbird drop-offs, so she can enthusiastically drive the little birds to her personal home and aid them back to health. Just something about that girl...she was not some crazy looking bird lady. She was beautiful and fit, like she had devoted her life to just two things: Being beautiful and fit, and taking care of hummingbirds. I wondered to Tracey aloud, "Do you think she just runs marathons every day and cares for birds? How else does one get so blooming fit and tan?"

Well, in both cases - fitness and bird care - she seemed to be doing a stellar job. Weeks after our drop off, the kids called to get a physical assessment of "Bird," the hummingbird, and they found that she was healing quite well, and would be released back into nature within the month. Frankly, Bird is still bait for hungry hawks, but at least she got a chance to live with super model bird lady for a while.

I don't know and I don't care how the ugly crow was disposed of. I had to send Rick to do that dirty job. I mean, there were flies hovering around it! Gross! Eventually, the mother and father crows stopped dive-bombing us, but it took days for them to give up. It was kind of sad. Maybe just instincts told them to hang on, but isn't that just the deal? Those crows did what they are instinctively instructed to do - care for their young.

Our neighbors have put more thought into their treatment of us than just crow instinct, but it is as if God has gifted them with amazing hospitality skills: Opening their hearts to us through kindness, warmth, sensitivity, generosity, and thoughtfulness. Just being themselves has brought such great blessings to us, and in lieu of everything else that has gone on this summer, it is a thing I like to meditate on most.

Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things."