I remember many years ago now, when I went to live on Mt. Shasta area. It was a beautiful part of Northern California, and I had the great opportunity to rent a little home on a street called Butterfly Avenue, just 3 doors away from the landlords, who were a sweet couple. She loved her alcoholic beverages and he was in a malt whiskey club. They were completely intrigued with all things European, and especially the British Isles. I was invited over to their home all the time, for breakfast, lunch or dinner. His father was a very known chef, and his culinary abilities were off the hook.

I really loved sharing time with them. I learned a lot about single malt whiskey, the whodunit books she was always reading, and many of the facts she dug up from Europe. I found myself studying my own culture to be able to answer so many of her fabulous questions.

When my front door was literally covered in black widow spiders one day, he was my hero and got rid of all of them in moments, without breaking a sweat. One day I asked him about his fishing fun, as the river was at the end of his garden. He simply grabbed two rods and gave me a fascinating fly fishing lesson right there and then. These two people weren’t my landlords, they were one of the greatest lessons in human kindness I’d ever experienced. I loved being their tenant and their neighbor. It was the most amazing home situation I’d lived in, even more so than owning my own home. The level of care and consideration was by far greater than anywhere else.

The Mt Shasta area had a silence and a spiritual reach that I’ve never known before. The classes I took there, the clients I met there and the neighbors I spent time with, were outstanding. We even had a family of black bears who showed up once a week the night before trash day, to see what they could find. I didn’t go out and meet them personally, but it was both scary and fun to watch them from the window.

I learned what it was like to pay a couple to live in their second home, and be treated with outstanding kindness, always. When I left, I hung a sign in their front room, that said “kindness matters.”

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Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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