A couple of evenings ago my wife and I were sitting on our deck in the evening. After a few minutes we commented to each other that our neighborhood just isn’t as quiet as it used to be. Part of the noise was coming from the particular activities of one neighbor, who was getting his Harley Davidson motorcycle running after a winter of sitting in the garage. He would start the bike, rev it up and ride it a few blocks, with the motor occasionally missing. Then he’d ride it back to his garage, make a few adjustments and repeat the process. Hopefully he got things adjusted in a manor that will allow longer trips soon.

There was also a lot of traffic on the road behind our home. In the twenty years that we’ve lived here, there have been about 400 new homes built between our home and Sheridan Lake. Many of the new subdivisions have a majority three- and four-car garages as opposed to the two-car average for our neighborhood. I’m not sure that translates into more cars per capita than our neighborhood, where there are plenty of cars parked in driveways and alongside garages. And I can scarcely complain since there are two of us in our home and we have two cars and a pickup. If the number of cars driving up and down the road is a problem, we have to admit that we are part of that problem.

We are delighted that there are more children in our neighborhood than was once the case, but we have also noted that there are differences in the games that children play. One set of neighbors, whose grandchildren are frequently in their yard, have children who play tag and a kind of modified street hockey game and jump on the trampoline. They are good at inventing new games. Yesterday in the heat of the day, they had a kind of game going where they were spraying the hose. They took turns being the one with the hose. I often watch them playing and think, “That looks like fun! I’d like to play a game like that.”

Another neighbor has a lot of different mechanical devices for their children. There are electric cars that are a poor match for our hilly terrain, which nonetheless are a bit noisy and seem to be fairly dangerous for streets with regular cars. They also have a small gas-powered four wheeler, at least one small dirt bike, a zip line, and a variety of other devices that involve propelling the kids by means other than their own muscles. When I watch those children play, I’m often thinking, “They should wear a helmet!” and worrying about their safety with the cars coming and going on the street.

Our neighborhood, probably like many other ones, is filled with four-wheelers and motor boats and motorcycles and side-by-side quads and lots of other mechanical devices and I, like my neighbors, have a shed full of motorized devices such as a lawn mower, snow blower, chainsaw, wood chipper, weed eater, and the like. When we all get together, we are capable of making a good deal of noise.

Since I’d rather not turn into the neighborhood curmudgeon who has little fun other than sitting on his deck complaining about the neighbors, I’ve been thinking of healthier ways to respond to the realities of my neighborhood.

That got me to thinking about a prayer discipline that I keep. I grew up with my ears to the sky and I’ve learned to identify many airplane sounds. I know the difference between different types of engines, can tell you how many engines on a propellor airplane and can easily identify the sound of a helicopter. I know the difference between the helicopters operated by the Army National Guard and the life flight helicopter operated by the hospital. So I try to say a prayer each time I hear the life flight helicopter. It is a simple prayer, usually something like this: “God be with the ones in pain, may they know your peace. God be with the caregivers, may their efforts provide comfort. God be with those anxiously waiting on the ground, may their prayers be answered.”

It was a short step from that prayer to adding a prayer each time the sirens are heard along the road behind our home. We live near a fire station and we’ve gotten used to knowing the difference between the EMTs responding to an accident or other emergency and a full-fledged deployment of firefighters. We tend to look out the window to watch if the sirens are patrol cars or the ambulance. It is a small thing to pray for those in crisis that they can hold on until help arrives and that their distress will pass.

It seems to be quite natural to pray for the safety of the children in our neighborhood. May they grow into their adult years without life-altering injuries and with their creativity and sense of adventure intact. And prayers for their parents seem in order as well. Sometimes I just pray that their parents would find more time to play with their children. Sometimes I pray that their parents would recognize that gifts of time and presence are far more valuable than gifts of expensive toys. Sometimes I just pray for patience for the parents, whose children seem to me to be a handful.

And, while I’m at it, it seems to make sense to pray that my neighbor will find a way to fix his motorcycle so he can spend more time riding to far away places and less time in his garage finding with the motor.

OK, I know that is a selfish prayer. It sounds a lot like the prayer I prayed when his motor home was parked in the driveway with the generator running.

And I pray for the three new fawns who are spending most of their young lives in ours and the neighbors’ back yards (not the one with the motorcycle). I pray they will wait until they are bigger before they attempt crossing the busy road. I pray that they will develop some sort of road sense, a talent not prevalent among the neighborhood deer. I also have been known to pray that the traffic would just slow down a bit for everyone’s safety.

It doesn’t look like I’ll be running out of things for which to pray anytime soon.

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