My Neighbor




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" March 27, 2003 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. To subscribe send a blank e-mail to subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------ Mary-Ellen learned early how to love her neighbor. The neighbor possessed a sweet nature making the lesson an easy one to learn. ------------------------------------------------------------ My Neighbor, My Friend By Mary-Ellen Grisham ------------------------------------------------------------ When I was a young girl, going to bed at nine o'clock on a summer's evening was not my idea of a good time. I would lie down at the bottom of my bed looking at the old Quiet Lane neighborhood. The dusky time was quiet. Across the street, old Mrs. Foster's trellis roses would get harder and harder to see as the afterglow turned into purple night. Before long, the lights and shadows waving through the tall trees would complete the progress to gentle night. Mrs. Duke's bungalow was directly across from our old two-story brick. Her house was always dark, so I assumed she was an early to bed, early to rise kind of person. As the summer days drew on through August and school loomed ever near, I did less window gazing and more sleeping. Even with a brief survey of the street, I could see a light on in Mrs. Duke's front room. Her door was open, and a small lamp with a ruffled shade was perched precariously on an old cabinet radio. I began to wonder why she was up so late. One morning I talked to Mom about Mrs. Duke's being up late at night. She told me that one of the neighbors had said that Mrs. Duke was sick. "I guess she sits up late and reads or listens to music until she falls asleep in her chair," said Mom, shrugging her shoulders. "How sick is she, Mom?" I wanted to know, "and does she have anyone to take care of her?" Mom said that she thought she had some close relatives in the city who made the trip out to the county to see her, but that her ideas about doctors and medicine were not like ours. She said that counselors from her church came to visit but that they did not usually call in doctors. Now I was really worried because I had always enjoyed the occasional chat with Mrs. Duke while I was outdoors playing or riding my new two-wheeler. Possessed of a kind disposition and a sense of humor, she was a good neighbor and a wise common sense person, and even in my rambunctious soul, I knew I loved Mrs. Duke. She was a champion for fair play and had gently chided my dad one time when he had been yelling at me about my bike riding. Her sweet nature was pleasing to him too. While I was outdoors, I began riding my bike on that side of the street. With the pretense of a problem, I would prop my bike on the curb, scramble onto the sidewalk and begin to carry on a conversation with Mrs. Duke through her open front door. Laughingly, she would allow me to come up on the porch, and while she said she could not have anyone in her house at this time, we would talk through the screen door.I tried not to be a nuisance and to observe her suggestions. Every night I would check for the light in her living room before I went to sleep. I felt happy to know that she was okay. With the coming of fall, her front door was closed, but through the small window on the door, I could still see the light in her living room. Then one night I could not see her light. I checked every night that week before falling asleep, thinking surely that the light would shine again. By Saturday, I was upset, and at breakfast once again mentioned Mrs. Duke to Mom. My mom, a sweet person too, gave me the kindest, gentlest smile and a warm hug. She told me that Mrs. Duke was no longer able to live alone and that relatives had come to take her to their home. Relieved, I watched for visitors to the house across the street. One cold day, a man put a For Sale sign on the lawn, and I asked the man with him if he was a relative of Mrs. Duke. He seemed as if he did not want to be bothered, but at a look from the salesman, he replied. He said that he was her relative, and I asked him how she was. He paused a moment, smiled, and then said that she was doing just fine. After that, I pictured Mrs. Duke enjoying her relatives and friends at her new home, but I continued to pray for her throughout the year. I was sure that Mrs. Duke would go to her final Home once her visit with friends was completed. Now as I look at our family album, I notice with the sad joy children feel that Mrs. Duke's house is the background for many of our Sunday go-to-church camera shots. Always the gentle memories return, and always I know that I would have remembered Mrs. Duke anyway. © 2003 Mary-Ellen Grisham meginrose @ empowering.com You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- Mary-Ellen Grisham is a Christian writer and teacher whose writing appears on inspirational sites and in various email newsletters. Recently, she became Editor-in-Chief of Eternal Ink, a twice-monthly Christian ezine newsletter. Her work has appeared in collections, anthologies, and church papers. Eternal Ink email: meg @ eternal-ink.com (A new web site is under construction.) -------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------- Letters From Our Readers -------------------------------------------------------------- I enjoyed Melva Cooper's article about her grandson. As the grandmother of four, two of them boys, I identify! Love and cuddle those little guys all you can while they are small. My "boys" are now nineteen and thirteen, and the days of cuddling them in my lap with a book or to watch a movie are over. Time is precious and fleeting, and we have them such a short while. Barbara Carpenter bjlogger @ sbcglobal.net www.bec.newsmoose.com Melva does have a way with her grandchildren and her words. Her grandchildren are lucky to have a grandmother like her that truly loves them and teaches them about God's love. I always enjoy Melva's stories! Betty King www.betty.newsmoose.com --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir Tim Speir Alan Thaddeaus Howard Todd Holland Graham William Julie Sagel Jessie Marshal Thompson Jason Please continue to pray for our leaders and military a this time. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Chocolate Alert! I know that got your attention! I am working on a chocolate cookbook to be given away on Write 2 the Heart's web site. This work in progress is tentatively called "Write 2 the Heart of the Chocolate Lover." Anyone who would like to join in the delicious fun, send a chocolate recipe with a brief bio to be included after each recipe. Send as many as you wish. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner David finally got me on his motorcycle. I try to walk several times a week. One night when I got finished, he met me near my walking trail with a helmet and took me for a ride. We had an enjoyable time. The moon was full and the traffic was light. It's a good thing I had recently cut my hair to my shoulders or I would have had a rat's nest! As enjoyable as that ride was, it still has not convinced me to go cross-country on it! God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2003 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.