FRESH THYME
I have a route I walk all the time when I go out in the neighborhood, because I want the familiarity when I’m alone, and I know exactly how long it takes me on that particular route. I often have to make myself put away my phone and just observe and listen…
​
Observe what, you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you!
​
One thing I notice is the yards of the home which I pass. Some are manicured so neatly, have pretty blooming plants in pots, and it’s obvious the owner takes pride and time to make the yard attractive. Right next to that yard can be one that’s unkempt, overgrown, pots are empty, and the yard is an eyesore. Right next to the pretty one! And when I see it, I often wonder what makes a homeowner let their yard get into such disarray. And if the yard is an eyesore, what must the inside of the home look like?
​
And then I stop.
​
​I have no idea what’s happening in the lives of those that live in home with the ugly yard. Sometimes, upon closer observance, it appears that the house is not lived in. So that explains it! But I happen to know of a single mom a few doors down from us that just worked hard to raise her girls, and the yard wasn’t on her calendar of things to do. How could it be? There’s another home where I know an elderly couple lives, and I’m sure yard work is not in their skillset anymore. They’re tired, it’s hot, and the yard just has to go.
Another thing I notice is the porch. Some are so inviting with a table and chairs that are painted as a contrast to the house, and they’re beautiful. Others are lined with the prettiest plants that just draw the eye in, and I wonder what plants those are, and I want to add them to my pots at my home! But then, right next to that house can be an empty porch, a front door that needs a paint job, and the most hideous curtains hanging in the front windows.
​
And then I stop.
​
Perhaps a single lady lives there and has just lost her husband, and the porch was a place where they sat and sipped tea and chatted, as they watched the traffic go by. I remember that my grandmother used to do that. Maybe a divorce has taken place and money is tight, and the one living there is never home, and enters from the back door, so the front porch is never even seen. Or maybe money is tight for the family and having furniture and plants on the front porch isn’t in the budget.
​
What I realize when I’m walking is how we all judge others by what we see, when we have no idea what’s behind the porches and doors and windows. I do it. I get aggravated if a neighbor down the street doesn’t mow his yard, or there’s a broken swing hanging and blowing in the wind. But honestly, I remember a time when funds were lean for us, when we were experiencing hard times, and we just couldn’t get to all the “chores” of life, either.
​
So this last time when I walked, I decided to walk by each house and pray for those living there. The judgment and irritation left, and compassion spilled out, at least for the few minutes of passing by. I grieved for those that I don’t even know, who might be experiencing depression or loss or lack of what they need. It’s hard in this life, keeping up with all the things that are expected of us from employers, family, children and demands on body and minds when we can barely exist. And instead of my white glove looking for “dust” or my head shaking in disappointment at these folks I call neighbors, I let that go and wondered and went by with a little prayer and a blessing on those that have no time to present to us a picture perfect, inviting home…by all appearances that we only see with our eyes.
​
And then I stopped. I was home.
​
Walking without judgment, observing and wondering, looking and praying, made that walk a little lighter and more fun and I was extremely thankful for the time I had to observe and stop, and keep walking and pray.