How beautiful a day can be when kindness touches it.
~George Elliston
Shortly after moving into a new Clovis, California neighborhood in 2002, I noticed my neighbors all had the same routine: drive into the driveway, use a remote control to open the garage door, and drive in with the door closing behind them. Everyone had a lawn service, which meant no one worked or puttered in their yards. Rarely did I see children playing outside. I didn’t know even one of my neighbors. It seemed so impersonal and isolating to me. My neighborhood needed a spark.
The next Christmas season, it was time to be that spark. I sent invitations to each house on my street inviting the neighbors to my home for a Christmas cookie exchange. To my surprise, they all came bringing trays of freshly baked cookies.
It was a delightful evening getting to know one another. We discovered we all felt the same way — we needed to connect. Several began to talk about vandalism or other minor crimes they had experienced in our area. We agreed that the simple solution was to exchange phone numbers and alert each other to potential problems. By the end of the evening, someone offered to host the cookie exchange the following Christmas.
Two years later, in addition to what was now our annual Christmas cookie exchange, we decided to hold mid-year block parties, giving us another opportunity to connect. We received permission from the city to shut down our street for an afternoon. Neighbors brought out tables, chairs, barbecues, and lots of food. We rented a bounce house, hired a disc jockey and invited someone from the police department to speak to us. It became an annual event and included our official Community Watch meeting to discuss all issues concerning our neighborhood.
When the police department implemented the Clovis Community Watch program (CCW), I was voted to represent our neighborhood as the block captain. I met with other block captains and local police officers to help promote community safety, awareness, and connection.
In 2016, block captains were invited to work with the police on a more substantial community awareness program. We met in a local park monthly, but the cold months were coming. Someone asked, “Where can we meet during the winter?”
“My house is always open,” I volunteered cheerfully.
An officer sitting behind me said jokingly, “Great! How about Thanksgiving? I am on patrol and won’t get to have Thanksgiving dinner.” Everyone laughed and agreed that I should open my house to everyone in attendance for Thanksgiving dinner.
“I am agreeing to host CCW meetings only,” I said, dismissing that idea.
As I drove home, the words of the officer — “I am on patrol and won’t get to have Thanksgiving dinner” — kept playing in my head. By the time I pulled into my garage, I made the decision that I would provide dinner for him and the other officers who kept my family safe during the holiday.
My surprised husband easily agreed when I told him, “I am preparing Thanksgiving dinner for all Clovis officers who will be on patrol Thanksgiving.”
My intention was to buy, prepare, and serve the meal myself at the police station. I could not ask anyone else to give up their family time. But then my next-door neighbor asked, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Preparing dinner for the Clovis Police who will be on patrol,” I answered.
“I’ll buy the turkey,” he volunteered.
Another neighbor said she would cook it. Others called or came to my door to volunteer salads, side dishes, and desserts. Some offered money. So many asked to help.
Thanksgiving Day arrived. I could hardly wait to meet the other volunteers at the police station to set up for the feast that would be served later that day. Decorations in red, orange, brown and yellow gave a warm, welcoming feeling to the room. The buffet tables were over-filled with all the traditional and favorite foods associated with the holiday. By noon, everything was perfect and waiting for our special guests: Clovis police officers who could not be with their families.
The officers stepped into the break room, waiting to fill their plates from the bountiful offerings. “There are really people who would take time out from their family holiday to provide this incredible meal for us?” one asked.
“It is our honor to do this for you,” I said.
The mood was light as the officers ate and shared conversation and laughs. When the last meal was served and the last officer left, it was time to clean up and go home, secure in the knowledge that these men and women were keeping our city safe. It made me happy to know that in some small way, my friends and I did something to make their holiday easier.
Just as with the cookie exchange and block parties, preparing and serving Thanksgiving dinner for police officers promises to become an annual tradition. It started with “a spark” years ago in the form of a simple idea and a simple invitation.
~Georgia A. Brackett
