A stranger with a huge smile approached me the other day at the Center Lovell Market asking excitedly how progress on the building was going. I had no idea who he was but acted as if we had just talked last week and had known each other for years. This happens to me a lot in Lovell. Friends and family members have watched me grow up over the years with my sporadic visits. A relative would be introduced here or there by my grandfather with quick details of which branch on the family tree they occupied or an old friend and where they lived, usually a road I’d heard of but couldn’t place, and so on. Visits were always too short to allow for revealing conversations or experiences that would later make into memories. So Maine friends and family often seem a blur to me.
While I tried to place this friendly Mainer, he saw Barry and decided it was a good time to introduce himself. He lives roughly a quarter mile down Slab City Road from our property. I’ve talked with him only a handful of times and I’ve met his girlfriend who keeps her horses on the land across the road from us. These beautiful animals are kept where my grandparents had two ponies - a picturesque spot in between the house and Heald Pond. I understand he’s a carpenter and a caretaker, like so many Lovell year round residents.
He offered his tools when we may need them and where we can find them when he’s not home. He said my grandfather was so kind and generous while building his first home that he wants to return the favor. His offer was genuine and given with a warm smile.
We have another neighbor, this one right next door. He bought my grandfather’s camp roughly 20 years ago. It was a typical Maine camp but what made it interesting to me was its previous life as a boathouse. The 1950s brought two boathouses to my grandfather’s land that he would occasionally offer to visiting vacationers and family. Our neighbor eventually knocked down the old structure and rebuilt a sturdier home to last the harsh Maine winters. We share a right-of-way with my mom that goes right through his “door yard” - uncomfortably close to his house. Rather than use this old logging road as our driveway with building trucks and large equipment running through, we decided that we would build our own road. It was the right thing to do.
We often see our neighbor watching our progress. We’ve wondered what he and all Slab City Road neighbors feel about building on my grandfather’s open field. It’s a beautiful area - untouched. What does he think of having a neighbor where there wasn’t one before?
Any answer to questioning our new neighbor’s opinion or feelings came with his helping hand. He walked up our new road, said hello, and got to work. Barry and a crew were pouring concrete for the foundation walls that day. Assistance was offered without any promise of reciprocation.
At my grandfather’s memorial I heard different stories of my grandparents’ generosity. Newcomers especially wanted to share how welcome they felt when my grandmother would periodically bring by garden vegetables and fruit when dropping by for a visit. I was told that she once paddled a canoe across the pond to bring fresh raspberries to a couple soon after they bought their summer camp. Small towns can seem intimidating for someone “from away” and these lovely gestures from a Lovell native would feel so welcoming.
And so... the welcoming generosity is offered to the granddaughter and grandson-in-law - two recent newcomers from away.
No comments:
Post a Comment