Ron slowly began to brighten up. He started to use his skills again—he fixed a neighbor’s broken lawnmower and repaired a kid’s broken scooter. Slowly, the spark of life and purpose came back into his eyes.
The Cord Between Us
About a month later, Ron knocked on my door with a mischievous look.
“I need your socket again,” he grinned.
I raised an eyebrow, thinking he was kidding.
“Just for today,” he said. “Big surprise coming.”
I let him use the power. We both knew he no longer needed it for survival, but he clearly wanted it for something important.
That evening, his surprise was revealed. Right in the middle of my lawn stood a beautiful handmade wooden bench. It had lovely carvings of birds on the sides. Ron had built it from leftover wood in his garage. He’d used my power tools without asking, of course—but this time, I truly didn’t mind at all.
Attached to the bench was a small, engraved plaque that read: “The Cord Between Us.”
I burst out laughing. “Really?”
He said, “Yeah. You thought the cord was about stealing electricity. But maybe it was something else, eh?”
I shook my head. “You’re a stubborn old man, Ron.”
He tapped the bench with pride. “And you’re a decent one, deep down.”
I sat down next to him on the new bench. We watched the sunset in comfortable silence. The power socket on the side of my house was still locked up. But the truth was, something much bigger had been opened between us.
The Power of Care
Weeks turned into months. Ron started volunteering at a local repair shop that helped low-income families. He fixed heaters, fans, and old radios. Word about his kind heart and his skills spread quickly. People respected him, and kids in the neighborhood looked up to him.
One evening, he showed me a letter he’d received. It was from a woman who had heard about his volunteering from a Facebook post. Her father, who had been a repairman, had passed away the previous year, and she wrote that Ron reminded her so much of him.
Ron teared up while reading it. “Funny, isn’t it? One extension lead… and now this.”
I nodded. “The cord that keeps on giving.”
Eventually, Ron told me he was planning to move. Not far, but into a smaller apartment closer to the town center. He said it would be easier to get around, be near more people, and help ease his loneliness.
“It’s time,” he announced.
We packed his belongings together. On his last day, we sat on the bench one final time. He was leaving it for me.
Before he drove away, he looked me in the eye. “That note I left you… the one that said you’re colder than your electricity…”
“Yeah?” I prompted.
“I wrote it half as a joke,” he admitted. “But also half hoping you’d come over and say something.”
“Well,” I said, “you got me.”
Ron patted my shoulder. “Thanks for plugging back in.”
The Reminder
After he left, I kept the bench on my lawn. People who walked by would often ask about it. I’d tell them the entire story. Some people laughed; others teared up a little. But everyone understood the simple, powerful message.
A year later, I received a small package with no return address. Inside was a small wooden carving of two houses, sitting side by side, with a simple wire running between them. On the back, it read: “It’s not the power you share. It’s the warmth.”
There are so many little ways we can disconnect from one another. Sometimes it begins small: a locked socket, ignoring a simple hello, or holding back an act of kindness.
But the good news is that reconnection can also start just as small. A simple note. A helpful knock on a door. A conversation on a handmade bench.
We often believe it takes huge, dramatic gestures to fix broken things or relationships. But maybe all it truly takes is remembering that behind every locked door, there is a story and a person in need of a little compassion.
I keep that small wooden carving on my windowsill today. It is a daily reminder for me to ask, to notice, and to reach out.
Because sometimes, the things we plug into aren’t just outlets or appliances. They are people.
And sometimes, the best current we can offer our neighbors and friends is simply care and understanding.
