My neighbor would have me over for little dinners. I was pregnant with my 6th baby, and my husband had already re-located across the country to start his new job. I was so exhausted taking care of the 5 others by myself that I could hardly make food for myself. I was too lonely and too discouraged to even eat. So one evening I happened to be talking to her, and she invited me to stay for dinner - so I left the children with the 12 year old, and spent 30 minutes dining on her fabulous Italian cuisine. She was a fabulous cook. And so it continued several more time. Her name was Rosy.

The nicest thing a neighbor ever did for me was to adopt me! I lived over the fence and spent time wandering back and forth from my first home to my second. During that time there was a lot of fence work going on and when it was all done, I was on the wrong side - maybe deliberately. Anyhow, I moved (with the approval of my now former mom). I have never wanted to live inside, but now I can sleep in the garage if it is windy or cold. And I have a lovely blanket lined drawer in a cabinet under a patio roof to escape the rain and cold whenever I want. I’m very happy here and can’t think of a nicer thing for neighbors to do.

Two incidents come to mind. The first, I believe, when I was of junior high school age. My younger sister and I were, except for our German shepherd, alone in the house. We heard a noise, as if someone was walking around, and our dog started barking. That did it for me. I called a neighbor man, who lived three doors down. I didn’t know him at all, but I felt that he would help us. He must have grabbed the baseball bat and bounded across the dividing yards; it was only seconds before our doorbell rang. He was like a hero out of a movie. He told us, “Stay here” and he ran outside, checking the yard. Then he checked inside the house. I’ll never forget him for that. The second was more recent. And I must preface this by saying that I am a moderate wine drinker. Usually on week nights I drink only four ounces of red wine - for health, you know. And I actually measure it out in a measuring cup. I know, too much fun. — On the weekends I may have one or two glasses, but not more than two glasses at one sitting. Having said that — A few years ago, my significant other/boyfriend, with whom I live, brought his mother out to stay with us four a couple of weeks. She was living in Brooklyn, but since her husband had died, he wanted to bring her out closer to him, etc. Okay. So she is staying with us while she looks for real estate. She’s a nice lady, but you know how it can go. She’s real picky about her food. When I cooked, she wanted to know what ingredients did I use, where did I get them, “You didn’t put salt in this, did you?” etc. So I had been keeping it all in. And for some reason, the very night before the day she was scheduled to leave, I just couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t wait one more day. No. I called a neighbor lady, and invited myself over for a glass of wine. Well, I just let it all out, over Chardonnay. Three glasses later, this poor neighbor lady had heard it all. How my boyfriend’s mother had rearranged my kitchen cabinets, refrigerator, etc. My neighbor drove me home. She was wonderful. And as my boyfriend tells me, when I got home, I took the suitcase that his mom had placed by the downstairs door. I carried it back up the winding staircase, as I sang ‘Blue Moon’ to his mother, who watching me from the top of the stairs. And I kept saying, “Oh Rose, you can’t go home. Not back to New York. This is your home now.” And back to singing Blue Moon I went, as I unpacked her suitcase. I’m taking her clothing out of the suitcase, and she’s taking them and stuffing them right back in. I wish I could have seen that. Well, maybe not. Anyway, after his mom returned to New York, in every letter that my boyfriend received, the final paragraph asked if I had joined AA yet. I kid you not. She did move out to the west coast, but not with us. We get along well, but I can’t tell you the glances she gives me, still, after all these years, at every Thanksgiving when I serve the cabernet.

I had moved to Colorado literally two months before, from Arizona, and had not suspected there might be a snowstorm, much less a blizzard in October! I drove up the mountains to our new home, in a total panic after teaching for the day, with two terrified daughters in tow, and as the light fell, the storm increased, until it became a record snowfall for early October, something like three feet in the city, and more at our elevation of 9,500 feet! I honestly thought we could simply push our way onto the dirt road (not paved), up to the gate, and make our way the final third of a mile to the house, another so many feet inclined. No, my Dodge Caravan would simply not move, to my amazement! “Now what?”, I thought, exhausted. I had never driven in snow, much less a blizzard! From behind me I heard, “Do you need a plow? I heard you’re from Arizona, and you might need some help.” This kind soul plowed me into my driveway, ahead of my minivan, all the way from the road to the house ( a good third of a mile, plus). Within the weekend, I got a phone call from another neighbor I barely knew, “Hey, J, how are y’ll doing? We haven’t seen tracks from your house this weekend…you all all right?” That’s neighbors. To me, that is the kind of people who live in the United States of America.l

after coming home from x mas day to find my house burgled..i went to a neihgbors house to use the phone( they stole that also) my neighbor returned to the door with a phone in hand and gave it to me and shut the door…..stunned i went home and pugged it in and called the police…at first angry, then, not…. why should I ruin her x mas and I got my phone call in the the p[olice ( funny huh)

My husband set a live-animal trap to try to catch a squirrel. He left town after setting the trap, instructing me to take the squirrel to a nearby park and let it go, if I found one in the trap. I walked outside the next morning and checked the trap. Instead of a squirrel, I found a skunk! My next-door neighbor came over, covered the trap, and walked it to the back of the yard where he released it. Whew!

In 1977, I was a single mom with a four-year-old, a two-year-old and a new baby. Christmas was coming. My paycheck covered expenses, but very little else and I had moved myself two thousand miles away from hearth and home. The lady across the street, who had a four-year-old who played with my boys, gave me her old Christmas ornaments. It was a real Santa Claus Christmas that year. I did the whole thing on the unexpected $50 from my Grandma, and the ornaments from my neighbor trimmed the tree for years after that. The four-year-old (now 34) still remembers and talks about that Christmas.

I don´t mingle with my present neighbors much, but I got a lot of fond childhood memories. My neighborhood was like an extended family and I spent a lot of time in every house on the street and the next street. I had dinner there, I watched TV, I helped in the garden (the house not so much), I drove my mother nuts because she had to look for me everywhere. The nicest thing a neighbor did for me happened when I was four years old. I had tripped in kindergarten and had bitten through my lower lip so badly that it needed stitches. It was the middle of the day, the hospital was in the next town, my father worked out of town, my mother couldn´t drive a car, I was at home bleeding all over the place. So our neighbor went to get her husband, he took an unauthorized break from work, took us to the hospital, waited till I had my stitches, took us home again, went back to work - without making a big fuzz. I´m still grateful for that.

You know…since I moved to the condo I’m in I’ve had a lot of nice things done for me. I’ve been picked up at the airport, had people come over to check on the strange car in my driveway, etc.. but before that I was always the “nice neighbor”.

I inquired of my neighbor Ruth about a strange, orange flowered plant that I saw growing down our road. It was so striking and unusual and I had never seen such a thing. Ruth told me that it was a wild azalea and that they grow back in the country in the woods. A few days later, I came home from work to find a huge one planted in my yard. My dear sweet Ruthie had taken her tractor out into the woods, found another wild azalea, carefully dug it up and brought it to my house. It’s doing great in it’s new home and I can hardly wait until it blooms next spring. “Life has no blessing, like a good friend”.

Left me alone!

My son had been ill for a long time and my yard was a mess. My time was devoted to my beautiful boy. The day he died and my neighbors saw the activity at the house they all came and started weeding and cutting the lawn for us when I told them we needed no food and I will never forget the shock when I came out the front door to see several women and men in my yard cutting and weeding. Beyond touching,

Well, I am a single mother after my husband went into mid-life crisis never to return, I was left 5 months pregnant with our fourth child. Our children have grown , three young men and one young lady. I had no mentor male figure for my sons…our neighbors who happen to be two brothers decided to take my sons under their wings and answer the “guy questions”. If there was a way to repay them for a caring service that is priceless I would. They have been a God’s send. Thanks Eric and Chad!!! with much Love

up and beyond the call of duty - this past june, my husband had allowed our basset hound lucy (who was the queen of the neighborhood and well loved by all) to run with our beagle (her husband) in the early morning. unknown by me, i went about my normal sat morning business having to work later that day. i was interrupted in my “getting ready” with harley, the beagle, scratching and barking at the back door - thinking he was just hungry i hurried along. surprised when lucy was not in our garage area, i moved the car out into the driveway where i was met by our neighbors chris and stacey. she met my car and just looked at me saying “im sorry” - lucy had been hit by a car and killed. chris and stacey not only comforted me which by that time i was a bawling mess - but went to gently move her in a blanket to the rear of their vehicle/reverse into my driveway and help me choose a location for her last resting area. they would not allow me to see her, move her or lift a shovel of dirt. chris who is heavy set, dug an appropriate grave to allow her sufficient space to be laid to rest (in 90 degree weather no less) without anything other than tears on his face. by this time, my best friend had arrived and before lucy was moved, chris and stacey encouraged me to move around the house so i wouldnt have the additional burden of viewing the final shovels of dirt. my husband who was also working at the time was overcome with grief and still 3 months later cries at her gravesite (which he decorated) - we had unconditional love from our pet and our neighbors understood our feelings to the utmost. trading cans of tuna, cups of flour or sugar cant compare to the love these two people shared with us. we have nothing but the utmost respect and care for them.