Welcome Basket

It used to be that, when a new neighbor moved in, someone designated themselves the welcome wagon. More recently, the welcome wagon might be something as simple as a knock on the door, polite but brief introductions and a basket of cookies or muffins. I like to imagine, though, that this tradition dates back to the pioneer days, when your nearest neighbor might be half an hour away on horseback.  In those days, you staked your claim on some land and planted crops or worked livestock, while living in a small cabin. It took many families years of working the land before they built a bigger home. So, if a neighbor came by, the offerings were probably more utilitarian, because new homesteaders wouldn't yet have a harvest of their own. I imagine that when you loaded up the wagon to drop in on the new family, you might pack a pie, some canned goodies like jam, maybe some roasted corn ears or some fresh bread and butter. Perhaps the women would chat about different fabrics or swap recipes, while the men might discuss plans for a barn raising. I think that in those days, it was not only good, but necessary, to know one's neighbors. They all valued good neighbors and people then were far more likely to share their time and lend a hand. That's at least how Laura Ingalls Wilder made it seem.
We are fortunate to have met some very good neighbors on one side and across the street. And, in the tradition of the welcome basket, my husband found a special surprise awaiting him at the gate on Friday. It wouldn't fit in a basket and it wasn't topped off with a bow, just a nice little note. It was one of the most thoughtful gifts I could imagine, though, given our endeavor. Sitting there, gleaming in the spring sunlight, was a brand new toilet. Yes, I said it - a toilet. This might seem very unconventional and it is probably the last gift anyone in polite society would consider, but I think our neighbors share our pioneer hearts, so they knew it would be perfect! The note was brief, stating simply that this was an extra and if we could use it, we could have it. I laughed out loud when my husband called to tell me the news. I said, "Thank you, Jesus!" because that was one less item that we had to purchase. If I had been given the choice between muffins and a shiny new toilet, I think I would have taken the toilet. So, now sitting just inside the door (though not there to stay) is our lovely, little throne. It is the first sign that our little barn is going to be our home. It makes it a little more real, a little more within our grasp. We may be pioneers, but there is a lot to be said for indoor plumbing!