Are You My Neighbor

In the preschool classic, “Are You My Mother?” a baby bird hatches when his mother is away, and the poor little fella begins a journey to find her. He asks everyone – and everything – he meets, “Are you my mother?”

Imprinting is instinctual; at the very core of who he is, Baby Bird is driven to find a bond, an attachment, love…and it’s natural that he’d do so with his mother, the one he’s physically closest to (or should be). In her absence and driven by his little birdbrain, he tries to attach to a dog, a cow and even a plane.


That story is what came to mind when I learned Grace Table would be exploring the question “Who is my neighbor” this month, except I found myself asking “Are you my neighbor?”

The question has dogged me for weeks. Not in a biting-at my-heels kind of way, but like a playful puppy, because, who is my neighbor, indeed? The people who inhabit the homes on my street? All the colorful souls at Walmart?



Really, truly, I hope you’ll continue reading my post We Are The World today at Grace Table.
We’ll roll back the clock to the 80s and stroll memory lane…

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