|A forest view in Japan, vintage postcard.|
I raked leaves this morning from our lawn to the curb, sweeping them across green grass. In years past, children would help by leaping into the piles I made, and crunching dry leaves underfoot. This morning a gentle breeze kept me company, rearranged a pile here or setting a leaf twirling there.
I didn't let new accumulations of litter discourage me. I wasn't expecting perfection, only progress.
Some of our leaves scampered across to a neighbor's yard. I watched my leaves mingle with other leaves I couldn't identity. My neighbor's tree was aflame with bright leaves that hadn't yet fallen. None of the leaves I raked were hers. Not yet.
Raking good will
It only seems right that a homeowner with a tree could collect at least some of the leaves that litter a neighbor's yard.
I don't pretend I scouted down every leaf the breeze ripped from our tree and threw onto our neighbor's lawn. But while I had the rake out, why not? Why not collect a few leaves from a busy neighbor's life before some blew on my lawn anyway? Why not share God's love in a small way?
So I worked in the sunshine this morning for a few minutes longer. And the breeze that had been rearranging my work for an hour began to blow leaves in the direction I raked.
It's a funny thing about trying to help someone else. Like autumn leaves, good will won't stay where you put it, it spreads.
How can you spread goodwill today?