Anonymity is Killing Alcoholics

At the other end of our street lives a delightful elderly lady caring for her husband in failing health.

My family is glad to shovel her snow, drag her garbage and recycling to the curb, and be on call should she need us in any other way. I was raised to take care of my neighbors, and I am thankful for the opportunity to pass the lesson on to my four kids.

But the real lesson is what I learned from our neighbor. She constantly tried to repay our help with kindness of her own, like peaches from her tree or baked goods she lovingly made from scratch. I declined her gifts for a long time, explaining that my kids needed to learn to give without expectation of receiving anything in return. I was passionate about the value of the lesson, but more importantly, I felt she had her hands full with her dying husband and I didn’t want to add to her burden.

Her disappointment from my refusal to accept some lettuce from her garden was the tipping point. The cumulative declinations were more than she could stand. She explained that, while she appreciated our gestures and had come to rely on my family for support, the arrangement was making her feel awful, and she could no longer accept our neighborly assistance. She told me that a relationship, even one where one party help from…