March 18, 2005 9:00 AM
Waging peace
"Tripp, you need to come home right away," I blurted as soon as my husband answered his cell phone. "There's a guy cutting off the branches of our trees!"
Ten years ago we'd just moved from suburbia proper to the country. It seemed like every day I was dealing with something new - like the morning I rose to find a dozen cows standing on our driveway. Or the first afternoon the wind shifted and the fragrance of freshly fertilized fields swept into our little piece of paradise.
Today the furious buzz of a chain saw had sent an alarm, pulling me toward the chicken coop we still hadn't quite figured out how to get going. I was used to chain saw noise - after all, my husband is an arborist. Which made me even more horrified to find a young macho in red flannel and denim hacking away at the branches of a row of 70' cypress trees lining our side of the fence.
"Hey!" I yelled, flapping my arms for emphasis, "What are you doing to our trees?"
"Lady, they may be your trees, but these branches are hanging over my uncle's property. And he doesn't want them anymore."
Living in the country, it takes a while to get around to meeting your neighbors. Now I wished I'd made more of an effort to meet the "uncle" who was our neighbor to the north.
"Can you wait til I call my husband? I don't know much about trees, but he does. I think he should be in on this."
"Lady, I've got my work cut out for me. I ain't waitin' for no one."
The chain saw was buzzing before I even made it back in the house to grab the phone.
"Just try to calm down, Barbara,." Tripp was saying now. "Have you tried talking to him?"
"He won't listen. I think it's a man thing. What if he cuts down all the branches on his side? Won't the trees fall over on ours?"
"I'll be right there." Tripp said.
Tripp's taller and braver than me (though I've often thought if I were taller I'd be braver too). He parked his truck in front, slammed the door, then strode the quarter mile uphill to our neighbor's house. Waiting anxiously at home, I finally heard a welcome silence. The chain saw had stopped.
Still I waited. Dusk was gathering and I was starting dinner when I finally heard Tripp at the front door.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Not much." Why do husbands say stuff like that?
I just kept looking at Tripp so he would know he wasn't finished.
"Well, at first he was pretty angry. He thought we were interfering, and the tree branches are hanging over his property, so he's got the right to cut them - even if it ruins their shape.
But I told him it's the wrong season to trim evergreens. If we cut the trees now, the sap will attract beetles and beetles can kill these trees. We agreed to wait til fall, then I'll do the trimming myself. That way the trees will stay healthy."
I waited for more.
"I think we'll be good friends." Tripp said, pulling off his boots.
"Why in the world would you think that?" I asked. "I mean, we hadn't even met until today and everybody was so upset."
"Yeah, but we worked it out together. I think when you've been through a conflict with someone and resolved it, your relationship will be much stronger in the end," Tripp said.
Wow. I never would have thought of it that way, but time after time since my husband told me, I've found it to be true. Peace doesn't mean wimping out in the face of conflict with a neighbor, but facing it 'til it's resolved. Not waging war, but waging peace.
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Comments
Wow, what a great article! Your husband is a very wise man. He's a keeper! :)
Posted by: Claire | March 18, 2005 12:14 PM
Waging peace. Very cool story.
Posted by: chip | March 19, 2005 7:41 AM
Barbara,
I liked reading your thoughts today. We have recently dealth with and resolved a conflict with a neighbor and your words gave me hope that our relationship with them will be stronger as a result.
Posted by: wendy | March 20, 2005 4:19 PM
