The Scary House on the Corner

We tried to avoid that house when we walked to school and when we played in the neighborhood. We didn’t even want to play catch near that house in case our ball ended up in the yard.

One day, we came home from school, and my mom was in the living room with a lady we had never seen before. She was about as old as our grandmas.

“Brent and Kylie, this is Mrs. Henderson. She lives down the street,” mom said.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Henderson,” we both said.

“Hello, Brent and Kylie,” she said. “I brought some cookies if you’d like one.”

Now, I was 10 years old, and Brent was 8. And that automatically means that we would like a cookie. So, we each took one. That was the best chocolate-chip cookie I’ve ever had. Even still to this day!

“That was really good,” I told Mrs. Henderson. “Thank you.”

“Of course, dear,” she replied. “My grandchildren are grown and have moved away, so I don’t really have anyone to bake cookies for anymore.”

At dinner that night, my mom was telling my dad about Mrs. Henderson.

“She’s really sweet,” Mom said. “She’s been widowed for years and has no one to help her do things around the house. Her son and daughter both live in other states.”

“What does widowed mean?” I asked.

“That means her husband passed away—he died,” Dad explained.

“That’s really sad,” I said. “Well, she bakes good cookies.”

“I’m glad you liked them, because I have a feeling we’ll be seeing her more often now that she’s met you. She said she doesn’t get to see her grandchildren very often, so she really enjoyed talking to you two.”

Over the next few weeks, Mrs. Henderson came by every few days. Some days, she’d drop off a batch of cookies or a loaf of banana bread. Other days, she would come in for a cup of coffee with my mom. She taught me how to play chess and stitched up some holes in Brent’s school pants.

One day when he got home from school, our dad was excited to talk to us.

“I was talking with some of the other neighbors,” my dad said. “We’re trying to find a good way to help Mrs. Henderson with some housework that she cannot do by herself.”

“What kind of help?” I asked.

“Just some chores around the house that she hasn't been able to do. Things that her husband used to take care of like mowing the lawn, painting, and fixing things.”

“Wait a second,” Brent replied. “Where exactly does Mrs. Henderson live?”

“In that big house on the corner,” Dad said. Brent and I looked at each other like we just got the shock of our lives. Because we kind of did.

“Mom, the house is scary-looking!” I said. “There are broken windows, and it’s always dark inside. The grass looks like nobody has cut it in forever. The house needs a paint job.”

“Oh!” Brent interrupted. “That’s because Mrs. Henderson hasn’t had anyone there to fix the windows or cut the grass or paint.”

“Because her husband passed away!” I finished. “Wow, now I feel bad.”

“Why do you feel bad?” Dad asked me. I know he already knew, but he wanted to hear it in my words.

“Because we saw the way the house looked, and we assumed a mean person was living there. We didn’t think about why things looked the way they did.”

“Don’t feel bad,” my brother said as he took my hand. “I thought the same thing.” That made me feel so much better. He understood how I was feeling.

“Mrs. Henderson deserves to have a really nice lawn and windows that aren’t broken and maybe even some flowers planted out front,” I said. “She doesn’t have someone there to do all those things for her, but she does kind things for people all the time.”

“Yes! We should help her out,” my brother said.

“Okay, we’ll get started this weekend,” Dad said. Mom and Dad looked at each other with little smiles.

“I think our children are learning what compassion is,” Mom said.

“I think so, too,” said Dad.

That weekend the whole neighborhood got together to help work on Mrs. Henderson’s house. It didn’t take them long to fix things up. With a little bit of work, her house looked amazing. Everyone working together to show compassion for someone who could not do something for herself.