I got a flyer last week on my door inviting us to a Yale Avenue/Yale Way Ice Cream Social. I kid you not! Not a big, hard-to-organize block party, but a simple get-together. Bring your favorite topping and join in.

My daughter and I arrived right at 7 p.m. and immediately started meeting folks I had never seen or talked to—and a few I did know from the pool. While we spooned delightful dessert into our mouths, conversation flowed. We lingered on topics like how long we had lived here—where we came from—what houses had sold recently. I scouted out babysitters and dog walkers. My daughter slipped away after her ice cream to run with other neighborhood kids that she hadn’t met before. An adult had set up kid games and my daughter kept returning to me with a heavier prize bag.

I had only planned on staying twenty minutes, but stayed an hour.

A sign up sheet went around to communicate raking and snow shoveling needs or offers to help. Information about neighborhood grants was shared. Pamphlets on growing food in this area, bus schedules, and other resources were available on tables.

I’ve lived in a lot of neighborhoods in my thirty something years. Never before have I witnessed such a simple gesture of togetherness. I beamed the entire walk home, grateful for the choice I made to live out the rest of my years on Yale Avenue.