Do you know the neighbor who lives on your block;
do you ever take time for a bit of talk?
Do you know his troubles, his heartaches, his cares;
the battle he’s fighting, the burdens he bears?
Do you greet him with joy, or pass him right by
with a questioning look and a quizzical eye?
Do you bid him “Good Morning” and “How do you do,”
or shrug as if he were nothing to you?
He may be a chap with a mighty big heart;
and a welcome that grips, if you’d just do your part,
and I know you will coax out his sunniest smile
if you’ll stop with this neighbor and visit awhile.
We rush on so fast in these strenuous days,
we’re apt to find fault when it’s better to praise.
We judge a man’s worth by the make of his car;
we’re anxious to learn what his politics are.
But somehow it seldom gets under the hide,
the fact that the fellow we’re living beside
Is a fellow like us, with a hankering too,
for a grip of the hand and a “How do you do!”
by H. Howard Biggar
Harvey Howard Biggar was born on 4 April 1886 in Aurora, South Dakota, United States of America. He became an agronomist, an instructor in agriculture, and a poet. Harvey Howard Biggar passed on at 79 years of age on 10 April 1965 in Chicago, Illinois, United States of America.