It was obvious that Martha should move. The situation was untenable. Everyone from her far away family, her neighbours and even her doctor and banker (who both after all had to make house calls) was in agreement. She should move. Everyone that is except Martha, whose infamous stubbornness, took on mythical proportions in this matter. Combined with her often tactless way of brushing people off and lack of gratitude for support that was offered, it would have been understandable if the neighbours had remained in their homes. They could have washed their hands of her; after all they had no ties or professional duties to bind them to Martha.

But they didn’t. Instead they brought her books and sweets. They kept an eye out for anyone around her place who shouldn’t be. They brought over turkey and the fixings on holidays (even though she made it clear she used to be able to do a better job of roasting the turkey herself). After awhile they started to organise get-togethers at Martha’s house because she couldn’t get to theirs. They began to get to know each other at these events. They found when they bumped into each other in town or on the street there was always something to talk about, a story about Martha, a shared chuckle at one of her jokes or worries about her health. While they often cursed her stubbornness and demanding nature they rarely failed to acknowledge how inspired they were by her spirit and feistiness in face of the hardships life had dealt her. As her challenges grew over the years so did the relationships among her neighbours.