Raking good will

A forest view in Japan, vintage postcard.
Fall is a beautiful time of year in Maryland. Red, gold, burgundy, green, olive and brown leaves festoon limbs and litter lawns. This is one of my favorite times of year.

Raking leaves
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?


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