A Pebble In The Pond
Linda Sentivanac
The smallest acts can have a powerful ripple effect in the world.
My husband and I have been touring new home communities in the last two years in a seemingly never-ending quest to find the perfect “active-adult” spot to retire. Our criteria changes frequently, as does our ranking of favorite places. Picking the one we want to call home for our “golden years” is a bigger challenge than we anticipated. So many factors to consider: amenities, price, weather, and, of course, location, location, location, along with countless others. One intangible came into consideration this past week after we looked (again) at two communities. I’ll call them “Mountain” and “River.”
At the Mountain community, admittedly, the setting was not all-together idyllic or perfect, but we decided to take a look at available home sites anyway. We stood on an inexpensive interior lot and pretty much ruled it out, until a couple swung by in their golf cart.
Teasing, the man said, “You don’t want this lot. The people next door are rotten.” He stopped and extended his hand. We all laughed when he introduced his wife and himself as those very residents. The couple was eager to answer our questions and even invited us to join them on their patio for more conversation and a drink. We declined, only because it was getting late, but before we could get back in our car, the couple from across the street emerged from their house and came over to talk to us. As we stood in the street, two other cars came by and stopped to chat and extend their hopes that we would consider living at the Mountain.
Finally, we parted ways with our “new friends,” and drove around the community some more. The occupants of each passing golf cart or car, and all the pedestrians and bikers smiled and waved.
Two days later, we returned to another community we had toured before – River. We like the mature landscaping here and the “desert-scapes” surrounding the area. It’s a bigger, more established community, so there was a lot of activity. Both my husband and I wanted to like it here, and thus end our long search.
At the end of this day, we both felt a strange sense of dissatisfaction we couldn’t put a finger on. Then it came to me: With all the activity on the roads and in the clubhouse and restaurant, there had been no welcoming gestures of any kind. No one had even waved.
We are now ruling out River community, based solely on that feeling. Did those residents truly not want to welcome newcomers to their home? When a community gets too big, is that the inevitable result? I think each small act does make a difference in our communities and can encourage those around us to do likewise. Even just a wave creates a ripple of kindness.
My husband and I have been touring new home communities in the last two years in a seemingly never-ending quest to find the perfect “active-adult” spot to retire. Our criteria changes frequently, as does our ranking of favorite places. Picking the one we want to call home for our “golden years” is a bigger challenge than we anticipated. So many factors to consider: amenities, price, weather, and, of course, location, location, location, along with countless others. One intangible came into consideration this past week after we looked (again) at two communities. I’ll call them “Mountain” and “River.”
At the Mountain community, admittedly, the setting was not all-together idyllic or perfect, but we decided to take a look at available home sites anyway. We stood on an inexpensive interior lot and pretty much ruled it out, until a couple swung by in their golf cart.
Teasing, the man said, “You don’t want this lot. The people next door are rotten.” He stopped and extended his hand. We all laughed when he introduced his wife and himself as those very residents. The couple was eager to answer our questions and even invited us to join them on their patio for more conversation and a drink. We declined, only because it was getting late, but before we could get back in our car, the couple from across the street emerged from their house and came over to talk to us. As we stood in the street, two other cars came by and stopped to chat and extend their hopes that we would consider living at the Mountain.
Finally, we parted ways with our “new friends,” and drove around the community some more. The occupants of each passing golf cart or car, and all the pedestrians and bikers smiled and waved.
Two days later, we returned to another community we had toured before – River. We like the mature landscaping here and the “desert-scapes” surrounding the area. It’s a bigger, more established community, so there was a lot of activity. Both my husband and I wanted to like it here, and thus end our long search.
At the end of this day, we both felt a strange sense of dissatisfaction we couldn’t put a finger on. Then it came to me: With all the activity on the roads and in the clubhouse and restaurant, there had been no welcoming gestures of any kind. No one had even waved.
We are now ruling out River community, based solely on that feeling. Did those residents truly not want to welcome newcomers to their home? When a community gets too big, is that the inevitable result? I think each small act does make a difference in our communities and can encourage those around us to do likewise. Even just a wave creates a ripple of kindness.