Sharing a flower is the simplest act of giving and can be enjoyed by everyone. Photo / Meg Liptrot, File
Sharing a flower is the simplest act of giving and can be enjoyed by everyone. Photo / Meg Liptrot, File
Opinion by Glynn Cardy
OPINION:
My neighbour down the road has placed a bucket on the side of the footpath next to her driveway.
On the bucket are the words, “Take one please”. And inside the bucket are flowers with long stems. At other times of the year, I’ve seen figs in that bucket.And feijoas. She has enough for herself, and, besides, she likes to share.
She tells me that she wants to live in a community where people have enough, share and are generous. And the bucket by the footpath is part of her commitment to that end. This neighbour is not alone.
As the dog and I walk around the streets of our Onehunga suburb, I see other signs of sharing. One house has a 10cm gap between its fence and footpath. There they’ve planted bright yellow coreopsis. They can’t see the flowers from inside the property. The flowers are purely for the benefit of those passing by.
Similarly, others make a small flower bed around the council-planted tree on their berm. One place even has built a fully-fledged boxed and raised flower and vegetable garden there. And, when fruit is in season, there are many boxes and containers outside houses where one can pick up lemons, grapefruit, feijoas or silverbeet.
On one street, on the crest of a hill, someone has put a garden bench adjacent to the footpath. A place to sit, catch your breath, and for a few moments enjoy the view.
Of course, there are also bits and bobs of what might be called “good junk” placed on the berms too. People cleaning out, or moving on, finding they have enough already, and yet not wanting their surplus to end up in a landfill. School and church fairs can sometimes serve the same purpose: giving away what we don’t need so someone else can find something they do.
There is plenty of waste in our world already, often driven by the desire for “more” and “better”, without us adding to it. We need to learn and do my neighbour’s philosophy of “enough” and “sharing”.
We can do this, not just with footpath gifts or giving to fairs, but by supporting foodbanks, secondhand charity-run shops, and appeals for aid here and overseas.
Knowing when we have enough, who doesn’t have enough, and how to generously share with others, is at the heart of Christmas.
Glynn Cardy. Photo / File
The Christian festival of Christmas pivots around the hope found in the way of living, giving and loving practiced by the early 1st-century Jesus communities. This is what the decorations, the music, the gifts and the messages all try to point to.
But hope can get lost when, as so often happens, hardship, loss, loneliness and fears come to dominate and subvert happiness.
Those who offer flowers to passersby are giving a gift. Something of beauty. Something to brighten their day. Something hopeful.
Those who offer food to passersby are also giving hope. Something to help sustain. Sharing and giving food is a mark of care and is the making of a community.
Those who offer a place to sit for passersby are also expressing care. Not just for those who need a rest, but for those who need to slow down. A place to stop, sit, look and ponder.
These footpath gifts, even if we personally don’t need a flower, food or a seat, give those walking by a good feeling. A feeling that we are connected to each other. That there is a concern for others beyond one’s own needs. A feeling that communal wellbeing, despite all that rails against it, does matter.
In such, there is hope.
Singing is the other thing. Think of the Women’s Rugby World Cup. The success of that tournament was not so much the wins on the board but the joy and vitality conveyed by those women and shared in through song.
The Christmas season is one of the few times people come out at night to their local park to sing. There are old carols and some new, songs from the radio, and celebrities too. People love to sing, especially together.
Whether it’s Eden Park or one’s local park, whether it’s about rugby or Jesus, singing builds togetherness. It builds communal wellbeing. And in such there is hope.
