“Good morning. Sorry if I woke you,” Mr. Anderson said.
"Good morning back to you. What are you doing?” I inquired?
“Just wanted to help you out. It is a great morning to get projects done. I hope you don’t mind.” Mr. Anderson continued.
“I appreciate it but you didn’t have to do that,” I responded.
“Nonsense. That is what neighbors are for.”
With that, he helped me sand and stain the front door. We used his lawn mowing and trimming equipment to get the grass cut and the trees and bushes trimmed. What a difference. It no longer looked like a jungle. Mrs. Anderson came over and washed down all of the walls and dusted all of the furniture, as Mr. Anderson and I finished patching the cracks in the sidewalk.
I thanked them as they headed back to their house. Curiosity was getting the best of me. Why did they do all of that for me. Was Uncle Frank wrong, all of these years?
Being dirty already, I decided to go up into the attic, to see what treasures Uncle Frank had stored for me. The steps swung down and the door squeaked open, as the draw string was pulled. I turned my key chain flashlight on, as I cautiously ascended the stairs. Looking around the attic, I could see the Big Wheel I used to race up and down my street. There was the train that Uncle Frank and I used to set up under the Christmas tree. A few race car sets, toy soldiers, cap guns, an old video game system, artificial Christmas trees and ornaments were also carefully stored there. What is this? A silver lock box, reflecting the light from the flashlight, sat motionless in the corner. Snatching it up, I abruptly carried it down the attic steps and placed it on the kitchen table.