You sent a gracious rain, O God, upon your inheritance;
you refreshed the land when it was weary.
I finally have a chance to thank my neighbor. We cross paths in the early morning, getting our teenagers out the door and on the way to school.
“Was it you who shoveled our walk the other week?” I ask. We had been out of town during a snowstorm and arrived home to find a clear path to our door.
He nods his assent claiming it was nothing. It is the kind of nothing that neighbors do for one another, I think, as I spread salt on the ice in front of my house and continue on to salt the frozen walk for my neighbor on the other side.
These nothings are the gracious rain of God, washing away the accumulated stress of this winter in our urban neighborhood. I think of small kindnesses that often go unacknowledged and their power to refresh. I am certain on this morning that I have not been grateful enough for living among people who simply care for the well-being of those nearby even when we hardly know each other.
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