Nosy Nora and the Neighbor

One winter morning, Nora loaded trash cans onto a sled and slipped its rope around her middle. Slowly she shuffled down the driveway hauling her load. When Nora neared the road, she spied the neighbor clearing snow from his vehicle. Nora peered at him so intently that she ended up tripping over the sled rope—SPLAT! Into the snow she plunged, falling onto her knees in a very cold heap.

While in this humbling position, dots began connecting in her mind like the snowflakes that had sculpted this wondrous winter scene surrounding her. Much of her life, Nora had been called nosy, busybody, snoop. Until that moment, she had supposed folks simply failed to comprehend common curiosity. But suddenly she realized the big difference between the two: Curiosity notices the neighbor and then continues on its way. Nosiness skulks, stares, scrutinizes, and finally sinks into the snow due to minding somebody else’s business instead of its own.