Visited my elderly neighbour Joyce a few doors
down from our old home yesterday in Coleraine.
Our house was a rotten wreck invested with wood worm and had a capacity
to be much colder inside than the ambient temperature outside. But our neighbours were universally
lovely. When we moved in we were greeted
by one who brought flowers, chocolates and a massive bowl of fruit. Joyce two doors down would appear at Easter,
Christmas etc with one of her home baked cakes, those heavenly concoctions that
only six decades of practice can produce.
I remember when my husband had a bypass operation in London and we had
to fly over together, she sent a lovely note to my youngest son, left alone in
the house, saying if he was lonely or hungry to call with her. I really thank God for such people they make
the world around them so much sweeter.
You’ll not find them on the front page of your
newspaper, or interviewed in a Jeremy Kyle show, or in your local court
building, she will not create litter or vandalise your street, so you will
probably never get to meet Joyce but be heartened that she exists. I had obviously visited a little too early,
half ten in the morning, but she welcomed me in with nice cup of coffee and slice
of cake. All with one hand. It took me some time to notice that all the
time we were talking a tiny bird was being held in one of her hands. When I drew attention to the bird, she said
it had flown into her kitchen window and stunned itself. So she was holding it in her hand in the hope
that the warmth of her hand would help revive it. Sure enough the tiny bird began to become
more lively and open and close its beak.
They say the best cure for shock in people is talking and warmth. So Joyce was providing both to this tiny
package of life. After ten minutes the
bird was much livelier and Joyce took it outside to see if it could fly. Who does such things? Who would share their human warmth with a
tiny stunned bird. Well, I hope you, like
me, are strangely uplifted that Joyce certainly does!
