To get the full value of a joy, you must have someone to divide it with.
Mark Twain
Seeing the sign from the interstate, I told Chuck, “Let’s go check out that town.” I thought maybe it could be the place we were looking for. After all, we had looked at so many; surely, one town would finally be right for us. He was not convinced. He veered off anyway to pacify me.
I watched the sun beaming from one set of rolling hills to the next as we traveled down a lonely highway. Already feeling anticipation that this was the place, we traveled on. Cattle were grazing the countryside as if they were put there just for me to see that day. Barns and silos were spread out between one farm and the next as we continued on. It was evident you had to be going to this town. A person didn’t just happen through it unless you were a backroad traveler. I was delighted. Chuck knew it. He could see it all over my face. I knew he thought I was overjoyed a little too soon. But I didn’t care; I knew this was it.
Looking out the window, I saw a little community nestled in the foothills. It would have made a beautiful painting on someone’s wall—quaint and lovely, laid out below our drive. I wondered what it would be like to visit down there.
The blossom cannot tell what becomes of its odor, and no one can tell what becomes of its influence.
Henry Ward
Listening to the sounds of early morning sets my day in motion seamlessly. To hear the sound of silence and then the gentle wakeup call of the Robins lets me know morning is close. It was a morning just like this when, set up at a craft fair, not far from town, I looked up from my booth, saw the highway off in the distance, and realized where I was sitting, right in the middle of the scenery that had captivated me five years before. This was time I couldn’t see from the interstate. It takes a curious turn of adventure that follows the backroads to find the hometown pleasures one seeks.
The table was set: pot roast, potatoes, carrots, corn, pinto beans, and cornbread. Sweet tea to drink and peach cobbler for dessert, with conversation matching the meal. How I had longed for pleasures and friendships like this, friendships that reminded me of childhood. God knew it and brought those who could fill it. I looked at Chuck, and he looked at me. We knew we would miss the meeting we were scheduled to be at that evening. He shook his head. We were right where we were supposed to be. The back porch would be filled with relaxed chattering, and we would enjoy the evening of small-town pleasures.
Electric communication will never be a substitute for the face of someone who, with their soul, encourages another person to be brave and true.
Charles Dickens
Chuck and I snuck away for an evening out a few weeks back. Eating at one of our favorite steakhouses on the square, we were visiting with a couple while we waited for our table. The lady told us they had just moved there and were loving it. She said there wasn’t much to do and not many options, but the slow pace and less congestion were a welcomed calm after the big city. She was amazed at how many people had time for a visit or brought homemade baked goods as a welcome gift. I smiled and told her, “It has a way of growing on you.”
Sitting at the beauty shop, a couple walked in looking for someone to cut their grandson’s hair quickly while in town. I was finished and waiting for Chuck to pick me up while he and the kids were in town. My hairdresser happily cut the little boy’s hair. While we watched and I waited, we had small talk. They mentioned how much they loved this quaint little town and how much charm it possessed. Her husband said he would love to have an address here – out in the country. To this, his wife chimed in, “I couldn’t do without the city. The convenience is all I need. I can look across the street and see shopping and eating, and even the hospital is only one block over.” I frowned. Trying to hide my thoughts of all the horn honking, people passing without care for one another, how busy takes the place of serenity, or a bird chirping gets lost in the traffic. But, as Beatrix Potter said in A Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse, “One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my part, I prefer to live in the country, like Timmy Willie- the country mouse.”
It’s hometown pleasures that can’t be duplicated, like seeing your kids playing receptionist while you’re getting your teeth cleaned at the dentist’s office or becoming famous when your child makes the paper. It’s pleasures like being a part of a church that calls you family, not members. A church that knows when you’re gone, or a call to ensure everything is ok; friendships that deepen more than a casual hello. It’s the hospitality that develops in my home and pours over to others. It’s a hometown place where my kids can run and play and develop lifelong friendships, where I can expect the same each day without worrying about constant change from people or progress.
The big city will never suit me. May the days stay simple as I chase extraordinary in my hometown pleasures.
And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. 1 Samuel 18:3
