Who is My Neighbor?
When Mary Ann and Jim married, they had a traditional receiving line with Jim’s Father next to Mary Ann’s Mother. Most of the people were introduced to his father as neighbors. At one point, he stopped the line and said, “Just a minute, I’ve been out to your house. There are fields and woodlands on every side. No one lives close enough to be a neighbor.” These people were neighbors, but the difference was in the definition and relationship.
A neighbor to us, and often to people living in rural areas, was everyone whose family had lived in the area. Doors weren’t locked and no matter how far away they moved, each person was always welcome. You knew that they would come if you needed help. You might say they were friends, but to us it meant more.
Grandma Layer was one of those neighbors; however, all neighbors didn’t need to be wise in years and experience to touch our lives.
When Mary Ann was born, her father was in the garden planting seeds. Danny Cope, our five-year old neighbor, came up the road from his home about a quarter mile away. He followed quietly down the row being planted. He was rarely silent. When they reached the end of the long row, Danny said “ Bill, can you take her back and exchange her for a boy.” Danny had two older sisters and two older brothers. He wanted a little boy for a playmate. Her Father explained to Danny that babies were a gift from God and could not be returned or exchanged.
This was not Danny’s first trip up the street. Whenever he wanted to escape his busy home, he would come up to visit Phoebe across the street. She was in a wheelchair and loved his visits. Mary Ann wasn’t the playmate he hoped for, but sometimes he would ride his bicycle with other neighbor children to visit.
Danny was a blessing to all the members of our family. As our Aunts got older and lived in Warren, OH, he would sometimes stop by to visit. One Christmas he brought them all the decorations, food, and festivities. He was a true neighbor, and one we cherished.