Personal Essay
Love Letters to My Neighbors
Spreading Smiles Faster than a Virus
The world shut down and I found myself in denial. This can’t be happening. Stores and schools closed around me and I needed to do something.
Anything.
I didn’t have a sewing machine to make masks for local healthcare workers. I wasn’t a doctor, nurse, or respiratory therapist. Government leaders categorized me as an unessential worker. Useless. They told me to stay home. The “real warriors” would handle this.
And … that ramped up my tendencies toward depression and anxiety. I found it hard to tamp down fear and hysteria when my hands were tied.
That was over three weeks ago.
I ended up joining the group of grass roots nobodies with no useful skill set during a pandemic beyond attempting to lift spirits, create smiles, and spread some love. All it took was a three-dollar bucket of sidewalk chalk and a positive message.
My neighborhood saw an uptick of foot traffic due to families staying home, gyms being closed, and mild weather after another long, Midwestern winter. It wasn’t just joggers and dog walkers. Parents brought along the kids to get some fresh air and exercise. I wrote three inspirational messages at the end of my driveway in several different colors and added childlike drawings of hearts and flowers.
Silly, I thought. Almost embarrassing.
A family with four children busted me as I scrawled my words of hope and optimism. The kids pointed and made happy exclamations. That day, my heart ached for Italy and I dreaded what would happen in America. I needed the positive messages as much as everyone else. On their way back through, they stopped again to survey my work. I was just finishing up. The woman told me the kids were anxious to get home so they could decorate their driveway, too. “You’ve got them all excited!”
I laughed. It felt good. It’d been awhile.
Later that evening, I passed by their house. The driveway was full of encouraging words written in blue, yellow, and green, “This too will pass,” and “Stay strong”. My step had a bounce as I headed home with a smile that took up most of my face.
The rest of the week, as I went on my daily walks, people said things like, “You’re the one who did the cool chalk art, right?” A few took pictures. They were people who lived near me, but I didn’t know them.
I know who they are now.
We don’t pass without a smile and a wave. We’re not strangers anymore. They’re our friends.
Chalk art has become commonplace on our street.
Recently, my fiancé, Sam, announced we had mail. He waved a piece of paper in the air, folded neatly in thirds. It was a letter from a couple about ten houses down. Handwritten! It was a thank you for the driveway messages. They moved in last November. They looked forward to meeting us when things got better. It was signed with their address, email, and phone number. Sam and I looked at each other wide-eyed and grinned.
When was the last time we received a personal, handwritten letter in the mailbox? Nineteen-who-knows-what?
I emailed them back. The next time I walked by, I put a pink smiley face on the edge of their drive.
They’ll know it’s from me.
They emailed us back.
We made plans to get together to have cocktails on the deck this summer — once these somber times are behind us.
We can’t wait for better days ahead.
“Staying in place” doesn’t mean we can’t communicate and give comfort to our communities in safe ways. This pandemic hasn’t squelched our spirit. Light has always won in the face of darkness.
We can spread smiles faster than a virus and there’s never going to be a vaccine for love.
Tracy is a writer and freelance editor who believes everyone’s story deserves to be told. Her work can be found in various publications including NY Daily, Falling Star, The MacGuffin, and The Haven. When she’s not writing, you’ll find her on a beach sifting through the sand for treasures. Preferably sea glass and Petoskey stones.
For another one of Tracy’s feel good articles, check this one out!