My World: Neighbourly love

Me and the girlfriend have now lived in our own house for a year. It’s a terrace house and one side is currently being re-furbished so is empty, the other side was set on fire some months ago, so is also empty.

This means that the closest neighbour we currently have is next door but one, on the other side of the burnt out shell.

We don’t really see too much of them, the odd wave as one of us is coming or going is about all the interaction we have.

Or should I say had, as the other day we had a knock on the door.

When I answered, there stood the figure of the lady from two doors down, looking somewhat distressed.

She informed me that her partner was in a lot of pain, but had left his painkillers at his friend’s house in Canklow and asked if I would be able to give him a lift to go and get them?

After seeing her partner and the pain he was in, I obliged.

When I told friends and family about this over the following days, most of them replied with the same sort of message.

“I wouldn’t have taken him.”

“Did he give you petrol money?”

“I would have told him to get a taxi.”

This got me thinking, has the role of the neighbour changed so much that we don’t help someone a couple of doors down anymore?

In times gone by, neighbours would share everything, making the collective families better off.

But not anymore, thanks to housing estates and numerous other social changes, the neighbour in a practical sense has all but died off.

I made the trip from Kimberworth to Canklow and the young man picked up his pain relief.

A few days later – when me and my partner returned from shopping – we noticed a card had been pushed through our letter box.

It was a hand-made thank you card from the chap a couple of doors down, what a lovely gesture!

I once again began to think, maybe our streets would work better if a little of that ‘old-fashioned’ neighbourly love returned?

Let me know what you think abour neighbourly care, by tweeting @josephcawthorn