Lots of people come and go from your life. On my rural county road, I enjoyed a lifetime of quiet security where I knew everyone in my neighorhood. My family has been in the same spot since the mid 19th century and most of my neighbors are generational residents as well. Many are people my dad grew up with and that my mother has known since they were married in 1972.

The face of the neighborhood has changed as people have aged, as some have died, and a few have just moved away. Last year, we lost one of those neighbors in a terrible blow to our little community. David and his wife Teresa have known my parents since they were young. Dad grew up with them. I remember spending time at their house when I was little. Toward the end of David’s life, they spent a lot of time with my folks, trying to slow the clock and enjoy each other’s company.

He was a good guy, a kind man, and the sort of neighbor everyone should have. 

The other day, I located something I’ve been searching for since before David died. It’s a wooden giraffe, a pull-toy that he made for me when I was little. I suspect he made a lot of toys for the children in his life but I feel lucky that he thought to give me one.

It’s not just a toy. It’s so much more than that. For one, people don’t make things like they used to. Having something that was created by a person who enjoyed working with his hands is important. Kids need things that weren’t made in factories and people need to do more things that are productive.

More importantly, it’s a keepsake from a dear neighbor and family friend who thought enough of his little neighbor with blonde hair in pigtails to give her something special.

Since I finally found it, the little giraffe won’t be going back in the box. He’ll have a place of honor in my home as a reminder of the difference that people can make in the lives of others and, more importantly, how a person’s existence can cause ripples in life’s pond long after they’re gone.

Here we are, a very long time ago. I was not yet two. I don’t remember the day but I do remember the dress.

I’m guessing David would be surprised to know I kept his giraffe and that it matters so much to me. But isn’t that how life goes? As we travel through life, we tend to think about how we are impacted by the world but forget that we are impacting the world too. A gift, a smile, a neighborly wave – these things matter and all culminate into the immeasurable presence we leave behind.