Giving Thanks

I love living in a small town where the morning show at the local radio station announces your name on your birthday.

I grew up in a small town, riding my bike to the city limits; from east to west and north to south. Curfew during the summers was sunset and shoes and shirts were only worn by parental decree. Our town was not populated with people imbued with fear and mistrust. 

Life was slow. Life was simple. Life was sweet.

Years later, John Mellencamp would write the anthem describing much of my childhood.

Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look who's in the big town

Educated in a small town
Taught to fear of Jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic, that's me

But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and that's good enough for me

Now, decades later, I have the perspective to reflect upon and appreciate all the reasons to be thankful for life in a small town.

Pulling up to the stoplight at Little River Road, I’m the fifth car in line waiting for a green light. “Wow,” I think to myself. “Traffic is heavy today.” Then I catch myself and just laugh. Heavy indeed.

In this small town, I occasionally find myself second in line at the Post Office, or the grocery store checkout, or at my favorite bakery. In the big city, you’d celebrate your good fortune. Confident that you are soon to be on the next item on your to-do list. Soon to be sitting in your car swimming upstream against traffic that stretches before you in every direction.

In this small town, however, being second in line might not assure you of a short wait. Often the clerk and the customer ahead of you are enjoying an amiable conversation. “I love that scarf. Where did you find it?”  “How’s your daddy doing? I’ve been praying for him.” “We have a new grandbaby! I’ve got her photo right here.”

Far from being annoyed as the people in front of me huddle and coo over the image on a phone, I like listening in on these conversations. I enjoy seeing people connect over the simple moments in life. They are celebrating what is truly important. Unencumbered by an endless preoccupation with time and task. 

What a small town lacks in sophistication and options, it more than compensates for with simplicity and an unhurried calm. I am honestly thankful to wait a little longer while bearing witness to human connection in a world that seems to be swamped by discord. 

I love that in a small town the owner of your favorite lunch spot will come out from behind her counter and give you a hug. We are two people from different parts of the world who have met in a place that allows us the time and opportunity to share our stories. A small town that allows us the time to share both smiles and tears as we work through the good and bad that life has to offer.

I love that people know the names of my dogs and will inquire about their health. In a small town, I can leave for my 10 a.m. appointment at 9:45 and get there with 5 minutes to spare. I can walk out of another wonderful performance at the Flat Rock Playhouse and be back in the warmth of my kitchen before the last patron has finished visiting with friends in the Playhouse parking lot. 

Heading to town on a Saturday afternoon, I know that I’m likely to see someone I know. Friends and acquaintances are everywhere in a small town. What a blessing.

For all of these reasons and many more that I lack the skill to sufficiently articulate, I am thankful. Not because my life is better or richer or more valuable than the lives of people who live anywhere else. I am simply thankful because I live in a place that gives me the time and the opportunity to breathe, to contemplate, and to reflect upon all that is good in life. Not perfect. Not better. Just good for me.  

And, that’s good enough for me. Thank you very much.