Next Door

Today is… you know: One of those special days of the year to remind us of the importance of love.

This love song starts on a sad note: A few days ago, the last owner of a little shop around the corner passed away. The shop had been there for a hundred years. Selling pots and pans, planters, brooms. An old-fashioned hardware store. But the most important part of the store was not the merchandise on display, but the people in it. Everyone around here remembers the kind man in the store, ready to help, with a great sense of humor, amazingly knowledgeable, and always happy to have a long, good talk. Even and especially in hard times.

There are places like this in every village and neighborhood. Specialty shops, small cafes, cozy restaurants, early morning bakeries, all-day newsstands, always-fresh grocery shops. The people in them devote all their time and energy to keeping that little part of the community up and running. Often giving more than just a good in a bag with a receipt. Sometimes even things you might not want to hear, but are obvious to any kind observing eye.

Wherever I and we have lived, there have been these little gems. Like the cafe we used to go to for a wonderful breakfast, prepared and even brought to the table by a passionate vegetarian chef. The owner would leave the piano on the stage open in the morning for a homeless pianist to practice in the warmth. His food earned with pride.

Or the grocery store run by a father and son. No matter how busy the day was, they were always happy to discuss any fruit or vegetable with me when I was a student and give me tips on what to cook with it. Up first thing after sunrise, in bed long after sundown.

And that cute little bakery on the corner of the main street. Fresh rolls with the toppings of your choice, hand-made with a smile. I especially remember the mother of this family. Sweet and helpful, but very determined when it came to the order in her shop. There was a wonderful mix of people who went there. Everyone felt welcome. It was remarkable to see how she tamed the rough construction workers who came in during our early lunch hours. They loved that little bakery.

Sadly, some of these places no longer exist. But the love and dedication of those who made them come alive from the inside, their hearts and souls. The families of the owners and the people who worked there. They remain in our memories. Reminders of what a neighborhood should be. Filled with love for the important things in life. Run with perseverance, respect and dignity.

Today I dedicate this post to you, who truly make the world go round in the closer dimensions. Thank you. We love you.