Pushing back from my desk, its lunch time! My stomach is growling as I head down the hall to the front door and then off to my car. On my way there, I look up at a senior assisted living apartment complex. If I leave at noon, there is often a woman in one of those windows, looking out on the street below. I wave, she waves back. I wonder what she thinks as she looks out.
Last week, I looked up and she wasn’t there. The potted plant was still hanging in the window, framing glass in green strands and leaves. I found myself wondering about that woman. Was she okay? Was she on a trip? Did she go someplace for lunch?
Somehow, this woman became my neighbor. I’ve never met her; we have only waved off and on at each other for the last year. But, yet – somehow she is my neighbor. Now, as I walk past, I pray for her and for her day. I pray for her health and that there are other things in that room beside the plant that make it feel homey.
I wonder – who will be the next new neighbor that arrives in my life.
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