Who is your neighbour? What does it look like to act neighbourly towards another? Jesus posed these questions to the religious leaders of his day. These questions continue to challenge us in today’s world of divisiveness and oppression. The etymology of “neighbour” points to proximity as one aspect of the word’s definition – one who is a near-dweller. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The idea of being neighbourly evokes practices of hospitality and compassion, of threading connections to strengthen a community.
This summer has been a tough one at Common Table Farm. By late August, six heat waves had blasted through Toronto, accompanied by multiple air quality warnings due to wildfire smoke. When you work outside, you see and feel the effects of climate change directly. Last season saw torrential rainfalls, while this year has been a drought. Climate extremes are happening in real time. And yet, the farm is a place where I experience hope. As I reflected on how we pulled through the season, I thought about our farm’s neighbours.
Gary lives nearby and is a keen gardener himself. In May, he showed up with boxes of home-grown seedlings. His gift could not have come at a better time! Our own seedlings had faced germination issues and were also slowed down by voles munching on them after being transplanted. Gary’s seedlings meant that we were still able to provide many tomatoes, eggplants and peppers to the community, while we waited for our own plants to catch up.
Marianne and Jessie also live in the neighbourhood. They both volunteered on weekends, responding cheerily to my texts asking for help with watering in the greenhouse. With such a hot summer, daily watering was required for many months. Marianne and Jessie offered us the gift of their proximity, freeing our staff to have precious weekends to rest.
We met (and named) Carl one day while weeding the rows of corn. He was carefully tucked on a common milkweed leaf, his handsome yellow, black and white stripes identifying him as the endangered monarch caterpillar. Carl kept us entertained that day: we watched him trundle on the milkweed leaves and imagined his next phase of life. Carl’s presence buoyed us with hope. Our farm not only provides organic produce to Flemingdon Park; it also provides a pesticide-free home for a neighbour who faces declining habitat.
Bob lives further away from the farm than what might be considered a neighbour, but he has definitely acted neighbourly. I met him during a speaking engagement about our farm. He comes from a farming background, and we struck up a conversation. I learned that he was a labyrinth aficionado and was very keen to visit the small labyrinth installed in our pollinator garden. He came by to walk the labyrinth but also brought along a mower and volunteered to keep the pathways trimmed. This labyrinth has been one of those projects that was a great idea at the outset, but difficult to maintain; since we prioritize the vegetable crops, we often don’t have time to maintain it. Some years, it has been disappointingly overgrown and not very useable. What a gift Bob gave to us this season. It was wonderful having our labyrinth lovingly maintained by someone who deeply appreciates this feature of our farm!
A final neighbour of notable mention visited me on a hot August day. We had been hauling vegetables to Flemingdon Park for distribution. I was tired from driving back and forth, lifting heavy loads and fielding questions from community members. When I returned to the farm, I decided to take a moment’s rest. As I watched goldfinches flit to and fro, a fast-moving shape caught my eye. A ruby-throated hummingbird zipped past! She paused near the eggplants, then hovered by a trellis, drinking nectar from a bitter melon flower. I was entranced by this rare and special neighbour. While she was tiny and I only saw her for a brief moment, the joy and delight she gifted to me was tremendous.
This season was incredibly hot and dry, tough on the bodies of those working at the farm. But we have been blessed by remarkable and generous neighbours. They have gifted us with practical help, time and skill, sharing of resources and signs of ecological hope. Our warmest thanks to Gary, Marianne, Jessie, Carl, Bob and the hummingbird, for being the best neighbours any farm could ask for.
To learn more about the farm or to support its work, visit www.flemingdonparkministry.com.
Hatred is not a Christian value