I love being from a small town. I'm fiercely protective of it, because in our town we practice the lost art caring for one another. Not checking in every so often to see how the family and kids are, or how the new job is, or planning a lunch date to 'catch up;' but
actually taking care of each other. We run into one another in the street and our whole day will take a detour to help a friend who needs any old thing: a rolling pin, a book, a shoulder to cry on...maybe I'm old fashioned, but when we talk--especially during this season--about 'being the hands and feet,' this is what I think of.
So, even though it was a somewhat trivial need, I was touched when, after getting to the island yesterday and realizing I forgot my copy of the book I'm (re) reading on the mainland, my mom called no less than 4 people to track down a copy. Each one apologized and suggested we call someone else who was just 'sure to have it.'. We finally found one--that was delivered to our door no less..
1 comment:
MB - you took the words right out of my mouth. To add to your list - Jordan and I were discussuing a building project to help out my pops and started discussing the amount of wood and supplies and their cost. Neighbor (aka pirate/captain) Roger came out, said he'd heard about what we were working on and said he had a ton of wood we could have. Not buy, not get for a cheaper rate than the lumber yard - have. I love our town. Love, love, love. And your post made me misty-eyed, too.
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