As I was walking in the community, I was struck with how
important beauty is. This thought came
to me as I noted the lack of beauty reflected in the barrenness of a completely
paved lot surrounding a residence, the garbage accumulated over winter, the
run-down buildings and fences, and the boarded up windows and un-landscaped
yards. As I turned a corner, barred
windows came into view, but in the same lot there was a garden and gazebo-like
structure. What a difference that bit of
creativity and promise of living things made in how I perceived that home—even
with the bars on the windows. It was a
breath of fresh air—a stirring of hope for me and for this community.
I’ve lived in the heart of the North End for nearly six
years now. When we bought our home, the
yard was undeveloped—dirt and weeds—with dilapidated fencing on either
side. We’ve had great plans for our
yard. Some have become a reality, some
have shifted due to economic constraints, and some just haven’t happened at
all.
I have to admit, at times I am just lulled into complacency
by the lack of attention that the majority of yards receive in my area. At other times, I feel pulled in so many
directions that my yard is the last thing on my to-do list. Sometimes, I’ve let fears of looking too rich
or becoming a target for vandalism or robbery get in the way of improving my
yard. Most of the time, I’ve experienced
what I think many in my neighbourhood experience: the lack of resources and skill/knowledge to
carry out my ideas, and the feeling of helplessness and despair that goes along
with that.
Thankfully, we managed to get an exterior fix-up grant our
first year and were able to have a solid fence installed. We’re very proud of what we’ve been able to
do on a budget. It’s amazing what a
little planning, planting, and perspiration can do to make a yard feel
welcoming and uplifting.
That’s what beauty does.
It infuses hope into our hearts.
It makes us want to linger in its presence. It says, “All is well and all shall be well”.
(I’m indebted to John and Stasi Eldredge for some of these thoughts). We feel safer in a place of beauty. That’s what we need in the North End. Places of oasis, of life. They don’t need to
be flashy or expensive. Simply picking
up the garbage that flies into my yard, planting a few seeds into a pot for my
front step, pulling some weeds, or painting my front door can help. It all makes a difference.
It does take time. Sometimes
it feels risky. Sometimes we may want to
give up (like I felt when the paint on my door peeled off or when someone stole
my Christmas garland), but we must refuse to give up. Beauty is important. So let’s work together at making the North
End a more beautiful place to live.
