Front Porch

As you all know, I have succumbed to facebook. It is all right for posting short, little blurbs; I still prefer my blog for the sharing of my deep thoughts and all my fabulousness with you.  But I am not here to talk about facebook.  Rather, I'm going to share a thought that was sparked by something I read on facebook.  Ready?

Our ward Relief Society has a facebook page.  It's a great way to keep us all informed on upcoming events, and in touch with each other. In a way.  A few days ago I read this:

"Everyone keeps posting that they are sticking things on the porch for the taking... i think i should just start driving the neighborhood and taking anything i see sitting on peoples porches :)"

Seems all right, huh? I know what she's talking about.  I, myself, took advantage of some garden-ripe cherry tomatoes that Heather left on her porch. I posted some things that I was willing to share, too—although I didn't leave them on my porch (it was baby clothes). And that's what I'm thinking about . . . the front porch thing.

I am incredibly guilty of never leaving my house or visiting with people.  I can be very content inside my house—cleaning, cooking, working on my latest hobby fetish—all day long, with maybe only a short trip to the library to break things up. But I do like people and have thought that I'd like to know my neighbors better.

See, it used to be that your front porch was the portal to your house. You didn't sneak in through the garage.  People who were out and about might say hello to you as you were coming and going.  Now you might give, or get, a finger-waggle from your neighbor if you both happen to be in your cars at the same time.  You used to sit on the front porch (which stood more forward than your garage, back in the day), and watch your kids play in the yard. And if people happened by you'd at least say hello; if it was a near neighbor or a friend you might invite them up to your porch, or go down and visit with them.

So this facebook sharing-our-stuff-with-our-friends thing really is great; it's pretty cool that you can toss off a quick post and let them know you have something they might like and are welcome to have.  But maybe just leaving it on the front porch for them to pick up at their convenience . . . well, it is convenient, but it's also kind of . . . sterile. Impersonal.

I understand.  We are all afraid to impose on one another. Maybe if Heather had posted that she had ripe tomatoes up for the grabbing, and anyone could come knock on her door between this time and that time, then maybe no one would have gone for them. I might not have. But then aren't we missing out on something?  The tomatoes were delicious. But the opportunity to chat a little—maybe learn a tiny something new about each other, to get to say "thank you" in person, have some human contact . . . these are all delicious too, aren't they?