A few months ago, Marva rang my doorbell. When I opened the door she introduced herself, and told me she was looking for some work to do. She explained that she had done some cleaning and outside work for other folks in my neighborhood, and wondered if I might have something for her. She was sick, she said, and needed money for medicine. She did not look well. She was very thin, and her face was scarred and drawn.

I couldn't think of anything at that moment that I needed, so I asked her what sorts of things she'd done for my neighbors. "I could clean your windows," she offered. And I thought, why not? I hadn't cleaned them in some time, and it couldn't hurt. So I walked outside and circled the house with her, counting the windows and agreeing on a price.

But Marva didn't have her supplies with her. It was too hard for her to carry them every day, she said, because she had a lot of pain. Could she come tomorrow, I asked? She said she could, and would. So I put some cash in an envelope and waited.

She didn't come the next day. Or the next. I thought I saw her once at the bus stop, but she didn't return to my door for two weeks. Then she rang the bell again, on a day I was doing my best imitation of the plate spinners on the old Ed Sullivan Show. I told her I had waited for her, and she hadn't come when she promised...and I asked her to come back another day when I wasn't so busy (as if I would be cleaning the windows, not her).

Last week, Marva returned. I offered the same deal we'd agreed upon the first day we met, and she left for a few minutes and returned with cleaning gear. (I have no idea where it was stashed, but it must have been nearby.) She did a good job with her second chance, and invited me to inspect her work. When she'd been at it for a little while I left and drove to a nearby Whataburger to get her a hamburger. (She still looked very thin, and frail.) When I came back I was afraid she might be offended that I bought her lunch, so I asked her if she wanted to share a burger with me. She did. But we didn't exactly eat together. I took her a plate and drink, and she sat down on my porch steps to eat.

I fixed my plate, but stayed in the house to eat it. Everything in me was saying, "Go outside. Sit down. Ask her to tell you her story. See her. Talk to her." But I didn't. And I still don't know why I didn't.

Marva cleaned my windows last week. I fed her lunch, paid her three times more than I pay to have the yard mowed every other week. But I didn't do what I should have done. I didn't love her as a neighbor. I didn't listen to her and honor her bravery to come and ask again for work.

Marva got a second chance and made good on it. I hope she'll give me another chance one day soon so that I can do the same.