I had just gotten out of my car at home Tuesday afternoon. I was in a hurry, but I heard a child’s singsong voice before I could make it into the house.
“Where are you going?”
It was my 5-year-old neighbor, Derrick. He likes to come visit my dog, Lucy, when I have her out. He also likes to come sit on my porch and talk with me. It doesn’t matter much to him what we talk about. He also loves other neighborhood animals, including a calico cat named Bella, whose family moved away a couple of weeks ago. (As you can see in the picture, Bella tolerated him. Just barely.)
“I have some work I have to get done,” I told him. “I have to go inside.”
“Oh,” he said with quiet disappointment.
I looked down at him and he was staring at the ground. He had pushed his bike over to my house and he just stood there next to me for a moment before he suddenly spoke.
“Can you fix my bike?”
I’m not a very mechanical person, so I knew it was very unlikely that I could help. But he seemed to need something. Honestly, it didn’t really seem as though it was about the bike as much as it was about my attention.

Slow death of painful past leaves me trapped in fog of depression
She’s miserable in life she chose, but she’s too proud to change now
If you’ve gotten on the wrong bus, nothing changes until you get off
Do five big beer companies force Native Americans to abuse alcohol?
Why do so many of us stay where we know we’ll remain miserable?
Why are U.S. troops going into Uganda to take sides in a civil war?
We fill life with noise because silence forces us to hear truth
We often live in the tension between known and unknown
After last month’s weight freakout, something’s shifted in my attitude