Lessons from the Red Front Porch Swing...

Lesson One: Love Thy Neighbors as Thyself!

When I was growing up, there was no better way to spend a day than to spend it with my Great Aunt Ella.  Aunt Ella was the youngest of my grandmother’s siblings, but she assumed such an authoritative role in the Woodyard family that she had truly become its matriarch.  She was small, but determined, loving, but firm, supportive, but never unwilling to speak her mind.

Aunt Ella had never married. Her long-time beau, Lawrence Farley, lived in Detroit, and traveled to Mobile by train to see her once or twice each year, until he grew too feeble to make the trip.  Between those visits, Aunt Ella shared her humble shot-gun home near downtown Mobile with her dog, Inky, and the relatives who frequently visited.  Her home may have been humble, but it was graced with a long, deep front porch that held two red porch swings, one on each end, and chairs between, for Aunt Ella’s many visitors to sit comfortably and enjoy a glass of lemonade, iced tea, or a cold bottle of Coca Cola.

A day at Aunt Ella’s house was spent mostly on Aunt Ella’s front porch, from which she could be privy to the goings-on in the neighborhood.  From her wooden front porch swing, painted a rich and welcoming red, Aunt Ella could check on the condition of all those who lived nearby and determine whether anyone needed her assistance (Now, we won’t talk about the fact that Aunt Ella was probably older than anyone who lived around her – but she still looked after everyone!).  From the swing, she could see if the Robinsons next door were up and about; no sign of them by about ten o’clock in the morning meant that she needed to walk over and knock on their door to see if she needed to “bring them a plate” of lunch or dinner.  From the porch swing, she could see whether Mr. Smith’s arthritis was acting up, and find out whether Mrs. Little was suffering with her back pains that day.  Oh, yes, and there was Miss Margie, the lady who lived across the way and who was, as Aunt Ella put it, "not quite right in her thinking."  One glance toward Miss Margie’s house, and Aunt Ella could determine whether she had gotten up feeling a bit more confused than usual that day; if she had, Aunt Ella would walk over, sit with Miss Margie on her front porch, hold her hand, and sing to her until she calmed down.

After Aunt Ella had checked on the welfare of those who lived nearby, it was time for her morning phone calls – to check on church members, family and others who weren’t feeling so well or who might be homebound.  After she’d touched base with everyone, she could assess who needed a “plate” – and a devotional, Aunt Ella-style – that day.  Since Aunt Ella didn’t drive, we would walk together from her house to the grocery store just down the street, pick up what she needed, and walk back.  While Aunt Ella cooked, she sang her favorite hymns (More about her hymn singing in Lesson Two from The Red Front Porch Swing…), and I played nearby, listening, absorbing.  Then, after Aunt Ella meticulously prepared that plate, we would walk together, hand in hand, to deliver it – with an ever-present, cold bottle of Coca Cola.

And so, at a very early age, I had learned the first of my lessons from Aunt Ella and The Red Front Porch Swing: Love thy neighbors as thyself.  For Aunt Ella, that meant watching for them from the porches of our lives, to know when the Robinsons and the Miss Margies of the world are in need of us, greeting them always with a wave and a smile, asking about them when we don’t see them, cooking for them when they need a meal, and always being ready with hospitality, praying for them daily, especially when they are going through tough times, caring for them tirelessly, and sharing whatever we have with them.  And, perhaps the most important part of the lesson is to use the term "neighbor" broadly – to describe anyone and everyone whom we encounter: No matter how "different" they seem – even (perhaps, especially…!) if they seem to be "not quite right in their thinking" – we should remember that they, too, are beloved children of God who need companionship and a hand to hold in their life journeys.

          I am profoundly thankful – for such a loving and faithful teacher, and for such amazing lessons from The Red Front Porch Swing.