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tis' the season

Many of you know we live in an apartment.  We happen to live on the second floor.  We live above a woman named Dorothy, or as Owen calls her: "Dorfie".  When we first moved in Owen was two years old.  He was a good boy, but as most two year old boys do, he would run everywhere.  This was a problem.  We received phone calls from the office about the "noise".  We did our best to make sure Owen wasn't jumping off furniture or banging on the floor, but we really struggled with getting him to walk instead of run.

I thought we were doing better, but Dorothy began banging a broom on her ceiling when we got too loud for her liking.  This was very strange because she was doing this in the afternoon, but then again maybe she takes naps during the day.  At this time we were putting Owen to bed at 8pm, so after eight it was very quiet in our apartment.  She continued to complain about us.  I started to become very defensive, naturally.  I even started having angry feeling towards her.  

*I promise, I am getting somewhere with this story.

One afternoon, Len got home a little early.  Owen gets very excited when Dad comes home.  They were playing together in the family room.  I was in the kitchen getting a drink.  It was summer time, & in Phoenix that means hot, hot, hot.  This day in particular I happened to not be wearing any pants (not an uncommon thing for me to do while I am at home, come on people, I was wearing underwear!).  There was a knock at the door.  Len, unaware that I was in the kitchen without pants on, opens the door.  It was Dorothy.  She came up to tell us that we were being way too loud, & she could not handle it!  Len was very calm & collect.  He explained to her, that Owen is only two.  He told her that we always have him in bed by 8pm.  He also told her that we would try to quiet down, but that we were not going to restrain our child in order to keep him silent.  

I was in the kitchen just steaming.  I had so many things I wanted to say, but without pants I thought it best to hide behind the counter.  I wanted to tell her to move to a retirement community if she wanted silence.  What did she expect, moving into an apartment on the bottom floor, below a three bedroom apartment.  I started getting more & more upset.  It was probably a good thing that I didn't have pants on, because I would not have been as nice & apologetic as Len was.  

Long story even longer, this is where my dislike of my neighbor started.  From then on I did not say a word to her.  I didn't even smile at her.  I wasn't mean, but I wasn't nice.  As the years have gone by (two to be exact) things have settled, & my anger has dissipated.  I have started to smile, & say hello when I see her.  

Let me get to the reason for this story.  For the last three months, I have felt guilt over my anger.   I was wrong.  I was not being Christ-like.  I was not acting as a daughter of God should.  

*Today something happened.

*It was a pivotal moment.

I am very disappointed in myself.  Dorothy made a gesture of kindness, & it should have been me who made the first move.  

There was a knock at the door.  I checked the peep hole & saw her.  Stepped back, rolled my eyes, & took a deep breath.  

I opened the door.

Our eyes met.  And............

She gave me a gift.

My heart sunk.  How could I have kept those feeling of anger for so long.  I wasn't hurting anyone but myself.  

  It was a Noah's Ark figurine that plays music.  I took it from her & told her that I thought it was beautiful.  She said she no longer needed it now that her children were all grown up.  It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

This Holiday Season, I urge you to be the first to make a simple gesture!