Community Bench

"Our house sits at the top of a cul-de-sac, nestled between one neighbor who has lived here over forty-five years and a retired couple who have been here only a few years longer than we have.  On the other side of that couple are John's brother, Frank, and his wife, Mercedes, and their two young girls.  They moved here first, and a few years later when this house had sat empty for a while, they suggested we try to buy it.  After some stuff and things and negotiating, we did.

Our kids and our nieces were still riding tricycles at the time, so we often sat outside in the grassy center of the cul-de-sac to watch.  Other kids from down the street would often come to join in, and John, Frank, Mercedes, and I pulled out lawn chairs from the garage or spread out blankets on the grass to watch the kids play.

One afternoon while John's mom was visiting, she mentioned how nice it would be to have a couple of benches in the center of the circle, more permanent seating so we wouldn't always have to drag our lawn chairs out every time the kids wanted to play.  Not one to suggest ideas without taking responsibility, she showed up several days later with a bench in a box in the back of her car.  Days later, a neighbor bought a matching one.

Now we have two benches facing each other in front of our houses, like our little community of seven homes finally has a living room.

As I was preparing dinner one afternoon, I glanced out my kitchen window and noticed three of our neighbors leave their homes at nearly the same time, making their way at various shuffling speeds to meet at the benches in the middle.

I'd seen them outside in the past, chatting over newly fetched mail or exchanging comments about the weather, but they had never stayed out for more than a few minutes as their aging bodies wouldn't cooperate with the demands of standing for so long.  Now that we had benches, everything was different.  Unable to resist the community, I went outside to check the mail and crossed the street to talk with them for a few moments.  We spoke of children and grandchildren, aging siblings and friends, the weather.  We enjoyed the breeze and waved at the occasional passing car.  We lingered.

With dinner still cooking inside, I made my way back to the kitchen but kept my eye on them through my window.  They stayed out for nearly an hour.  I'd not seen them do that before.  It wasn't that they didn't want to be together, but before it wasn't so easy.  Now they had benches to sit on.  And the benches made all the difference.

The benches didn't give them something to talk about.  The benches weren't fancy, expensive, impressive, or flashy.  They weren't a complicated solution to an unsolvable problem, and they didn't offer answers to difficult questions.  The benches simply gave us neighbors a place to be,  place to rest, a place to come together on an ordinary day."

by Emily Freeman in "Simply Tuesday"

 

Our little town offers a weekly community dinner.  Just as the benches were a simple gesture of comfort, ease, and bringing people together, so is this community dinner.  It has nothing to do with age or finance; no reason to be hesitant or ashamed in showing up; no need to make it more complicated then that.  It does, however, have everything to do with friendships, bonding, and the closeness that small towns boost about.  And for those of us serving, provides a way to get up out of the pew and put feet to our faith.

 

I am proud to say that our family just served our fourth community dinner.  87 neighbors came through and happily, excitedly, gratefully gobbled down 187 pizza sliders, ham and cheese sliders, reuben sliders, and chicken salad sliders.  They devoured a crock pot and a half of baked beans.  They were graciously overwhelmed with options of potato salad, macaroni salad, 5 bean salad, lettuce salad, Italian pasta salad, and potato chips.  And my, oh my, you should have heard the gasps of joy when I said we had peanut butter, strawberry, and caramel chocolate ice cream pies for dessert! 

 

The heartfelt thanks you's, the coming back for seconds and thirds, and the asking of recipes from the community is enough to fill your cup.  Providing this simple dinner is a chance talk to and connect with people we pass is the isle at Walmart or walk past at Cruise Night.  To see them as people, not just a project.

 

 

To everyone who has helped in the past, present or future and to everyone who has donated and contributed towards these meals -

 

Thank You. 

 

We all know the saying of 'many hands make the workload light' but your generosity goes beyond that.  More fitting would be the Mother Teresa quote "I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water that makes many ripples."  Every donation, every gesture, every smile, every 'Hi!  How are you today?" before serving a meal changes everything.  From the example that it sets for our children to the changes in makes inside us and the people we serve, it makes a difference.  YOU are a part of that difference.  You are making the world a better place.  Thank you and I can't wait to do it again in November.