My neighbours are from Newfoundland. They are different. In a very wonderful way.
This summer, they wanted to take down a huge, overgrown evergreen tree in their front yard, close to their house, a tree that blocked a lot of the light from getting into their kitchen and living room. They called in a professional tree-removal company for an estimate.
“They wanted $1,200,” Dave told me. “Then my buddy said he’d take it down for free if he could have the wood. Free is a good price.”
So, one sunny Saturday morning, a group of Dave and Betty’s buddies showed up and two young fellas clambered up that tall tree like they were running up a hill. Off came the branches in a hurry while more buddies and half the neighbourhood showed up to help and/or to watch. Before long, out came a case of beer and everyone who wanted one was offered one.
Dave and Betty are the kind of people who ask nothing of you and yet, you want to do things for them. They are friendly and funny and though they have problems, they don’t complain. Taking down their tree became a block party and before long, that was the place to be. It somehow grew into a week-long affair as almost every day, someone would show up to do a bit more cleaning up, carrying away a truckload of wood or carting branches off to the dump.
I dropped around several times but felt badly that I had nothing much to contribute except a few lame jokes. Finally, one day, when everyone was gone and just Dave was there, I noticed he still had a few scraps of wood lying around. “You want me to take those for our fire pit?” I asked him. “Sure,” he replied. “I was going to have to take them to the dump.” I went home and got my wheelbarrow and was happy to go back and get the scraps. It felt great to be able to contribute to the tree-removal effort even if I was the last one to do so.
That is what happens when people are so likable. Other people like them and want to be around them and help them. Dave and Betty don’t ask for help. They don’t have to.
In contrast, we have other neighbours who are the polar opposite. One day I was walking my dog down the sidewalk past their house and was startled to hear the woman’s gravelly, angry voice yelling out her kitchen window, “Don’t you let that dog crap on my lawn.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “He won’t.”
To this day, I cross the street when I walk my dog rather than walk past her place. When she and her husband drive down the street past our house, I always wave if I am out. He waves back, she never does. Takes all kinds, I guess.
Years ago, my wife and I vacationed in Newfoundland. One Sunday morning, we went to a laundromat in the town we were staying in overnight and put our clothes into a washing machine. There were a few other people in there too. A man in his 30s came in, put his clothes into a washer, took a quick look around and left. Soon he came back with a tray of ice cream cones, one for every person in the laundromat. He went around the room distributing them, still having not spoken a word. Eventually he opened up and chatted with us all.
There are nice people everywhere. But there sure seems to be a lot of them in Newfoundland and down east, generally. They have a different outlook on life than we do in our hard-driving society of Ontario.
They work to live, not live to work.
©2011 Jim Hagarty
