I have a new neighbor. Actually, I have several. Technically, they are the neighbors; I am the one that’s new.

It’s hard to know how to behave in this situation, given the pandemic. I mean, in the old days (by which I mean last year), I’d have baked a little something, walked over and introduced myself. But now, thanks to COVID, no one wants a home-baked anything from a stranger and “walking on over” could be seen as downright rude.

It was while I was puzzling over these uncharted waters of pandemic etiquette that the storm hit. As storms go, this one did not seem particularly big. There was some crazy wind in the morning and decent rain that followed, but it blew out pretty quick and the rest of the day was glorious sunshine and warm weather.

But apparently it was enough.

The power flickered, came back, flickered again, then went out and stayed out.

Now, I don’t want to make it sound worse than it was. It was warm, no one was going to freeze. Looked at objectively, it was inconvenient at worst. However, we are still in that stage of a move where boxes are everywhere, you can’t find anything you need, clutter reigns supreme and you feel jangly and unsettled. There was some extra stress, too, but that is another story.

My point is, I was doing my best to roll with it, but as night closed in with no sign of the power coming back on, I was feeling more than a little adrift and angst-ridden. That was when one of my new neighbors knocked on the door.

He’d heard our voices and seen our dogs, so he figured new folks had moved in, but hadn’t known how to come say hello. Given the storm though, he thought he’d check on us and see if we needed the use of his generator. That’s right, this kind, sweet guy was “just doing the neighborly thing” – albeit a little extra.

We wound up having a nice chat outside on the porch, properly distanced. We talked about jobs, families, interests and life adventures. When one of our dogs slipped out, he deftly caught her and handed her over.

It was lovely.

I am 100% certain we are polar opposites politically. Either that or someone has put signs at his home. I’m sure one look at my bumper stickers or my cheerful rainbow mask told him the same thing. But he never withdrew his offer of help, never was any less friendly.

That moment of kindness, of civility, of neighbors helping neighbors – that is what I have been missing. It feels like that used to be the norm and now everything has gotten so hostile, so acidic, so … mean.

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not backing down on the issues one bit. Oppressive systems must be dismantled and we have to stop wrecking the planet, too. These things are not negotiable.

But, as I used to write on the campaign walls, “No one ever changed my mind by yelling at me.”

I will be forever grateful to my new neighbor, not only for the offer of his help, but for reminding me that, really, we are all still neighbors. We are all called to look out for one another and small kindnesses are never actually small.

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