Better Together

They dry our tears, watch over our children and make life better. Here, 15 remarkable true stories of perfect neighbours—our family next door

Our Extended Family

I rang my neighbour’s doorbell with a small request recently, for her to keep my flat keys for a couple of hours. My husband had forgotten to carry his set, and I would be at work when he returned. As I saw her quickly run in her head possible excuses she could offer, I retreated with whatever grace I could manage. Later, I remembered times when neighbours, even in big cities, would open doors with big smiles.

It’s late Sunday morning in springtime Thimphu, Bhutan, and the peach blossoms look supremely content, while I start feeling hungry reading Enid Blyton’s description of a picnic lunch. When you’re 10, even reading about hard-boiled eggs can do that. Suddenly, beyond the peach trees, I see a figure heading towards our gate. It’s Ms Chhetri who lives across the road. I can see she’s holding a tray: There’s a plate of crackers, topped with cheese and scoops of marmalade. There’s also a jug of orange squash. “I thought these would feel nice sitting in the sun,” she says with a big smile as she places the tray on my lap. How could she read my mind?

Ms Chhetri had this way of popping over with piping hot parathas and sabzi for breakfast on Sunday mornings when the parents were too tired to face the world with three hungry children. When we were going out of town, she always met us with a packet of her perfectly flaky parathas. And the doorbell would ring, 15 minutes after we’d returned, with Ms Chhetri holding a tray of hot tea and snacks.

There was a sense of your neighbour being extended family, even through bad times. Like when Ms Chhetri received the telegram of her mother’s death and could only leave for her hometown the next morning. I remember spending the night with her, holding her as she wept. I don’t know if it helped—I was only 11—but I wished I could bring comfort in her moment of grief.