Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
Home and Religion
No More Perfect Icon than a Neighbor

No More Perfect Icon than a Neighbor

Last updated on: March 20, 2026 at 10:47 pm by Mary Pezzulo

0 Comments

No More Perfect Icon than a Neighbor 2026-03-20T22:47:19-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

There were exactly two things on my to-do list.

I was going to sit and write, not only my daily writing but also working on my book that I’ve neglected for months. And I was also going to clean the house. The kitchen in particular was getting shocking.

Michael was at a ten-hour shift and Adrienne was in school, which meant that I had the place all to myself. I was excited to get a lot done–writing first, then cleaning the house. It’s much easier for me to buzz around cleaning the house when Michael and Adrienne aren’t underfoot, as they hate the cheery pop music I blast on the television while I clean. This would be the perfect day to catch up on work. I came downstairs, let the cat out to enjoy the sunshine, and got on the computer.

The first thing I saw was a text message from Adrienne, reminding me that I’d promised to bake cupcakes for Jimmy’s boy as a belated birthday gift– and also to let her sneak a few.

The second was a text from the mother of the Baker Street Irregulars, asking if I could take her to the food pantry. Not the one in town, which hasn’t had good pickings of late, but the good one several miles away at the United Methodist church. That food pantry was only open once a month, only in the morning, and it closed in an hour.

I was out the door in a moment, nearly tripping over the cat.

Next thing I knew, my neighbor and I were flooring it on the freeway heading north, shouting at each other to be heard over the roar of the air from the open windows because Jimmy the Mechanic hadn’t gotten around to re-charging the air conditioner yet. We shouted, personably, about how expensive the groceries were lately, and how the youngest Baker Street Irregular had decided to be a vegetarian which was saving money. We shouted about the disabled Baker Street Irregular, who is doing a bit better at school but needs another round of genetic tests. We shouted about how excited the children were to take a three-day weekend: the high school basketball team had a chance at the state championship on Friday, so the school district was treating the occasion like a national holiday. Finally, she shouted “There it is!” and we pulled in to the Methodist church, where friendly retirees filled the car with food.

We thanked them, and turned around and drove south, shouting personably again. The mother of the Baker Street Irregulars sorted out the food that she would definitely eat and gave me the rest as a thank-you for taking her on such short notice. It took three trips back and forth to the car to bring my share of the heavy boxes inside. Twice, the cat darted in the open door and sat on the upstairs landing just to taunt me. She knows she can’t be upstairs because of Michael’s allergies. She is allowed to be outside on the porch and in the garden, and in her basement playroom with the side door to get in and out. I left the boxes in the hallway as I shooed her back out.

When I finally got the cat out, I put the perishable food away, and left the cardboard boxes of apples and cantaloupe and random canned things in the foyer. I whipped up a batch of confetti cupcakes for Jimmy’s boy. After I threw them in the oven, I realized I hadn’t even had breakfast and it was past lunchtime. By the time the cupcakes came out, it was time to get Adrienne from school. I leaped over the boxes like an Olympic runner, and nearly tripped over the cat yet again.

When we got back, Jimmy’s boy was waiting for us. I presented him with a plate of cupcakes, which he graciously accepted. Then he helped me sort through some more of the food boxes, asking if he could have a cantaloupe and a can of soup to take home. He asked to help me plant the tomato seeds that were in packets scattered on the dining room table, so I started soaking the peat pellets while I explained which breed of tomato was which. I told him that the packet he identified as peppers was actually San Marzano paste tomatoes, famous for delicious sauces. The little round black ones were chocolate cherries, good for sauce and for eating raw. The orange ones were Virginia Sweets, which tasted almost like a pineapple. The yellow were Yellow Pears, sharp and tangy like lemons. The purple were Cherokee and Black Krim, excellent for sandwiches. As I gave him his botany lesson, he got out Adrienne’s old toys to play with and discard, until the living room was a minefield. I finally got him shooed out the door in time to go pick up Michael from his shift.

When I got there, I found that Michael had to stay two extra hours to cover a sick co-worker’s shift.

Adrienne and I ran our errands without him.

We got home in twilight, with a bag of cold food from the restaurant. I’d barely eaten my salad before there was another knock at the door.

It was Jimmy’s boy one more time, asking to go for an evening walk together. I told him I could really only go around the block once. He wheedled me into two blocks. As we rounded the bend, he saw a whole gaggle of his good friends, zooming back and forth on bikes, roller blades and skateboards. These are friends he doesn’t get to play with very often, because they’re outside of the one-block radius where he’s allowed to go by himself. He needs a grownup to take him this far.

My heart sank as his heart soared. Jimmy’s boy has been lonely ever since the Artful Dodgers disappeared. He’s desperately wanted to run around with neighborhood children, but he only gets to do it once in awhile. He needed a good play as much as he needed water or food. But I was so exhausted I felt as if I would have to crawl home. I was so exhausted that I didn’t step out of the way fast enough when one of the children accidentally rammed into me with a bicycle. After that I sat on the curb, scrolling on my phone, as the children all played together.

Twilight turned to dusk and then night. The clear outlines of children turned into shadows of children, with the lights from their roller blades and bicycle reflectors twinkling like satellites.

The children squabbled over what planet they saw coming out low in the sky– one little girl insisted it was the North Star even though it was low in the western sky. Jimmy’s boy, thanks to my teaching him on our evening walks, correctly identified it as Venus. They played basketball, with one little girl attempting to dribble the ball while rolling back and forth on her rollerblades. They tossed the ball and laughed and argued until it was quite dark, and they were called in for bedtime.

I walked Jimmy’s boy back to his house.

I let the cat in for the night, stepping over those boxes again. The foyer was nearly impassable. The living room was cluttered and dusty. The kitchen was worse than ever, with the sink full of batter-coated mixing bowls. Michael was asleep on the sofa with half his dinner still beside him on the end table, and Adrienne was getting ready for bed. I hadn’t written a word all day.

I sat with the cat in the basement, too worn out to go to bed myself.

If I never do finish that book: well, just know that I’ve found a happy life in Appalachia.

If I am ever remembered for anything, I hope it’s for the people I’ve met here, people who make my life worth living. Knowing these people has made all the difference. Showing them to the world through what writing I manage to finish is a joy. Humans are the image and likeness of God. You will never see a more perfect icon, than a neighbor who needs your help at an inconvenient time.

If you learn anything from me, I hope it’s that the people around you are worth the mess and the exhaustion.

Life is good.

Mary Pezzulo is the author of Meditations on the Way of the Cross, The Sorrows an d Joys of Mary, and Stumbling into Grace: How We Meet God in Tiny Works of Mercy.

Steel Magnificat operates almost entirely on tips. To tip the author, donate to “The Little Portion” on paypal or Mary Pezzulo on venmo

Home and Religion

Food and Religion

Previous Post

March 16, 2026

A Birthday, A War, and A Hurtling Globe

Next Post

March 23, 2026 A Hemlock Forest, at the End of the World

Recent Comments

0 | Leave a Comment

"You're talking about supercessionism, the idea that Christians "replace" the covenant that the Jewish people ..."

Alex

Yes, the Old Testament is About ..."

"Oh I'm sure it did."

Mary

A Televised Execution is a Moral, ..."

"For what its worth, it seems like the whole thing originated from Pete Hegsith speaking ..."

Evil-Striker

A Televised Execution is a Moral, ..."

"You may be right. A war and its aftermath are different than day-to-day governance. Still, ..."

Mary

On Traditionalist Bullies, and the Death ..."

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

According to Romans, what is the gift of God?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Grace Eternal life in Christ Jesus The Holy Spirit Salvation