Strangers and Neighbors [and s’mores board inspiration]
By Sarah Hauser
@sarah.j.hauser
In the early fall, when evening temperatures have dropped and I find myself grabbing a sweatshirt after dinner, we sometimes ship the kids outside, instructing them to search the yard for sticks. My husband splits a few logs. I pull out a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and whatever chocolate my kids haven’t eaten yet (okay, I admit it: whatever chocolate I haven’t eaten yet). Midsummer nights are too hot and humid in the Midwest, so this is my favorite season to get an outside fire going.
Ours is a small, relatively inexpensive, portable fire pit. Nothing fancy but an upgrade from the rusted-out one we tossed last summer. On this particular night, we set it up in the front yard, right in the middle of the driveway where we can be seen and heard, where our lives more easily intersect with others’.
We text a few neighbors to let them know about our impromptu hangout, promising s’mores and snacks. I love doing things like this—gathering together around food, having relaxed evenings where there’s no expectation and minimal prep. But my love for hosting sometimes gets drowned out by my insecurity, my introvertedness, and the build up of exhaustion I carry in my body. I’m more comfortable nestled in the corner of my couch with my face in a book. Being with people—any people—can feel too unpredictable for this highly sensitive, Enneagram 6-wing-5 who sometimes struggles with anxiety.
But my son, my dear, sweet son for whom strangers are just friends he hasn’t met yet, he is my opposite.
***
After getting off the plane, we start walking toward the baggage claim and then quickly realize we’re missing a child. I look back about twenty feet and see our third kid sitting in the waiting area by gate B22, right next to an older man watching some sporting event on his phone.
“Hey Bud, what are you doing? We have to go!” I call, offering one of my signature awkward laughs to the man whose personal space had been annexed by this little boy.
“Hey, do you like the Bulls?” I hear Josiah say. “I watch the Bulls—DeMar DeRozan and Javonte Green are my favorite.”
The man turns his phone toward Josiah so he can see the event currently airing. “That’s the Olympics he’s watching, Josiah. They don’t have basketball in the Winter Olympics,” I say. “And we have to go get our luggage.”
The man seems like the grandfatherly type, kind eyes, snow white hair, wrinkles earned through a life lived well. He’s not in a rush and maybe even appreciates the humorous diversion from airport monotony. He and Josiah discuss Michael Jordan and other basketball greats for a minute, until Josiah finally acquiesces to my annoyance. “Okay, bye!” he says, hopping off the chair and waving enthusiastically to the airport grandfather as we catch up to the rest of our family. The man grins. I turn this scene over in my mind, in awe of what just went down in front of me, because it’s so different from how I naturally operate. I wonder if sometimes my son’s way is better.
***
I lift a few folding chairs off the hook in the garage, while Josiah rides along the sidewalk on his bike, zooming back and forth faster than my nerves would like. With every person who walks or jogs by, I hear him yell, “Hey!!! Are you coming to our fire pit tonight?”
The person smiles at this little kid they don’t know. I can see them shift their weight uncomfortably, and I am forced to pipe in, “We’ll be lighting it in about a half hour. You’re welcome to join.” Then I mirror their awkward laugh with my own as they keep on walking, both of us adults trying to maintain politeness while probably thinking, Yeah, no thanks.
A mom and daughter walk by as I unfold the blue lawn chairs. “Want to come to our fire pit?” my son asks. “Oh. That’s so nice,” the mom says. “Maybe we’ll stop by.”
“We’ve got plenty of s’mores stuff, but no pressure at all,” I chime in, topping my words off with the uneasy chuckle I’ve now practiced more than a few times. I want to give her an out so she doesn’t have to let down this kindergartener. But I also want to back him up. I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to invite a total stranger to a spur-of-the-moment party in the driveway. But he does. He has courage in spades paired with zero inhibitions.
An hour later, I walk outside after feeding the baby. I take a seat in the circle of chairs and pull my sweatshirt over my hands to keep warm. My husband adds another log to the fire that’s been going for a few minutes. I watch my kids running around with a new friend. And I see our neighbor—the mom I’d never met until an hour earlier, sitting in a chair across from me. Her husband joins later, and we sit around talking until late into the night. Other neighbors come and go throughout the evening while the kids do cartwheels on the front lawn, their faces covered in melted marshmallow and graham cracker crumbs.
I look around at the faces in front of me, and I can’t help but think, I almost missed this.
***
Josiah would have guests over every day, all day. He will walk into a room with no fear, and by the time he leaves, everyone will know who he is. A neighbor across the street told me Josiah kept asking him why he missed our fire pit the other night. “So sorry we couldn’t join you guys,” he apologized. “Oh my word. You do not need to apologize. It was completely last minute,” I say. My five-year-old just could not fathom that maybe people had other things they wanted or needed to do at the very last minute on a Friday night. What could be better than a firepit with friends? Not much, to my son.
I never know what this life-of-the-party kid will do. I never know who he’ll invite over, what he’ll say. Sometimes that scares me. What will he reveal about how I got mad or how my husband and I argued or what conversations were meant to be “off the record”, but an extroverted little kid doesn’t really have a concept of “off the record”?
I want to keep him close. I want to protect him, to make sure that he doesn’t wander past our house, that he doesn’t get too friendly with people I haven’t vetted. But I know his boldness has changed me. Because of him, I’ve smiled more at strangers and met more neighbors. I’ve laughed with new friends and am learning to step out of my comfort zone.
I meet someone new almost every week because he makes me. And I think I’m better for it.
S’mores Board
This idea was inspired by my niece, who had a s’mores bar at her outdoor wedding. I loved the idea and couldn’t stop thinking about all the possible ingredient combinations. Lay out any s’mores ingredients that sound good to you on a board, and let people create their own epic dessert sandwich.
Ingredient Ideas:
Graham crackers
Marshmallows
Dark chocolate
White Chocolate
Peanut butter cups
Creamy peanut butter
Caramel
Sauteed apples
Raspberries
Strawberries
Banana Slices
Coffee-candied bacon
Coarse Sea Salt
Recipe Ideas:
For a Caramel Apple + Sea Salt S’more (my new favorite): Cook a few apple slices in a small pan with butter and cinnamon until the apples are soft. Make a s’more with the graham crackers, roasted marshmallow, sauteed apple slices, a drizzle of caramel sauce, and a sprinkle of sea salt (no chocolate on this one!). It’s so good!
For a Coffee-Candied Bacon S’more: Make candied bacon and add two half slices to a s’more with dark chocolate, a roasted marshmallow, and graham crackers.
For a Peanut Butter-Banana S’more: Spread peanut butter on a graham cracker square. Add dark chocolate, a roasted marshmallow, banana slices, and top with the second graham cracker.
For a White-Chocolate Raspberry S’more: Make a s’more using graham crackers, a square of white chocolate, fresh raspberries, and a roasted marshmallow.
*If the weather isn’t ideal for an outdoor fire pit or you don’t have access to one, you can easily make s’mores in the oven! Check out this link for instructions.
Words and photo by Sarah J. Hauser. Sarah is a writer and speaker living in the Chicago suburbs with her husband and four kids. Through theology, stories, and the occasional recipe, she helps others find nourishment for their soul. She loves cooking but rarely follows a recipe exactly, and you can almost always find her with a cup of coffee in hand. Her first book, All Who Are Weary: Finding True Rest by Letting Go of the Burdens You Were Never Meant to Carry (Moody) releases in April, 2023. Check out her monthly newsletter or find her on Instagram.