Neighbors

So I ran across the street the other day to ask my neighbor if we could borrow his yard debris can for our rotting pumpkin. This is a neighbor I have seen coming and going, and with whom Jeff has had a conversation, but I didn't even know his name. He said it was Stanley, and gave me puzzled, "Do I know you?" look. It was an odd interaction. Suddenly he says, "Where did you go to school?" My split-second reasoning that he might be offended at my Christian roots, led me to tell him I went to Western Oregon University, rather than Salem Academy High School. He said, "Hmmm, no, I think it goes farther back than that. . . maybe Salem Academy in the 6th grade." As he spoke it was as if his face began to come clear through a fog, and I said, "Stan?" at the same time he said, "was Bulgin your last name?"

Stanley and I ran together on the track team. He was a distance runner, I a sprinter. We had some good times together. And apparently we've lived across the street from each other for three and a half years. Sobering. I've always been nice to my neighbors, but not very intentional about connecting with them. I'm not sure what this changes, but something in my heart and mind felt it was just wrong to have been across the street from a childhood friend and not known it.

Do you know your neighbors?