Poustinikki

In her book Poustinia, Catherine de Hueck Dougherty says that in Russia, a "poustinik" is one who takes up residence in a small house at the edge of the village.  His door is latched against the wind, but never locked.  He is there for the village, for whatever they might need.  If someone needs a cup of tea and some prayer, the door is open; if one needs bread, the poustinik shares whatever he has; if the local farmer needs his crops gathered in before the rains come, the poustinik goes into the fields until the work is done. 

What a wonderful concept; I believe in some ways, that is also the tradition of country life in America.  All the neighbors are "there" for the others.  They share the same life, the same joys, the same troubles.  In our urban areas, the workplace has become the center of life for most of us, who barely know our neighbors.  But now and then.....

When my beloved dog Ginger died the year before Katrina, one of my neighbors left a beautiful bouquet of Astrolmeria on my doorstep, with a note of condolence.  What a thoughtful thing to do!  She was aware of my grief, and shared in it.  When I had surgery recently, friends came from far away to prepare dozens of meals to freeze for future weeks, and friends from church came from nearby with hot casseroles, soup, and complete dinners. 

Though it is hard for families with young children to do more than survive from day to day, our country now has millions of "baby boomers" who are retiring.  What a wonderful concept it would be if all of us in that category saw the opportunity to "sit at the edge of the village" to be of service to our neighbors.