My neighbor is retired.

A lonely, lifetime bachelor, he calls it his "sit in the recliner and play Solitaire all day" phase. "Bored out of my mind," he says.

But here's the beautiful thing—we’ve grafted our neighbor into our family.

Today, while I was finishing an article, he tossed a ball to my toddler and did a puzzle with him. When my daughter got home from school, he helped her fill out her Valentine's Day cards so I could clean and cook dinner.

My neighbor craves what I have—a loud, chaotic family—just as much as I crave help. This is my version of modern-day village living.