We Almost Forgot How to Knock

"Your neighbor's vision is as true for him as your own vision is true for you."
-Miguel de Unamuno

This morning I peeked out the window and felt an unexpected rush of feeling as I saw one of our sleeping bags begin its journey to Africa. Our neighbours' car was rolling slowly out of the apartment complex; I had just seen them place the heavy sleeping bag on the back seat.
On Saturday Spouse and I had occasion to go upstairs to our neighbours' apartment. We carried in our arms an assortment of carefully chosen items to be sent to Kenya for displaced and impoverished people.
We had packed, among other things, a rice cooker, our second rolling pin, some clothing, some toys and books, cups and a plate. The sleeping bag was brought upstairs the following day.
As we were preparing to exit our apartment with the box of donations, I commented to Spouse about how odd it felt.
"We're leaving our apartment but even though it's snowing outside, we're not putting on our jackets! Doesn't it feel funny?"
It did feel funny, and wholeheartedly very sad that we have not knocked on any neighbour's door in the longest while.
This last couple of years has been the most strange for Spouse and I, with the fewest interactions and the least number of greetings.
Ten thousand miles and some time hence, a needy soul in that mountainous and dry land will silently accept the things we gave away and, in all likelihood, share them immediately with their own neighbour and fellow man.
I wonder which of us is the poorer.