Only in the Movies

Sometimes I think I live on a Hollywood set of a small town.  You've seen all of the cliches on the big screen...the police force, small but determined, the good ole boys sitting on the tailgate drinking beer (I confess to doing that a time or two myself), everyone saying "hi y'all" to everyone else,  kids running through crowds without a care,  bands marching and front porch sitting.  It's classic, from Andy Griffith to Sweet Home Alabama, all the cliches are there.

Well, it's official--the movies actually got it right.

Sunday our little community celebrated it's annual harvest festival.  We had all of the usual happenings that go on during the weekend - 5K runs, a parade, bands performing, booths, games, contests, and a car show.  We decided after church to take the grand kids to town for an afternoon of sampling small town festivities.

We gathered them up from their house and walked the two blocks to Main Street through sunshine filtered through leaves just beginning to turn colors.  Along the way we met up with a young couple and their three children, so we soon had our own little parade marching along.  The first thing we reached was a big tent set up for the afternoon entertainment by a local band.  Hubby gave a shout and we realized that the guitar player was the auctioneer who works with his real estate business.  A little "ribbing" was exchanged concerning grandpa duties on one side and guitar picking on the other, then we wandered on. 

We drifted down the street, with the kids investigating the various booths lining the street and the adults visiting with other parents out for an afternoon with their families.  A trio of plastic swords were purchased and a furious mock battle soon was in place.  The adults greeted friends, inquired about new babies, listened to proud grandparents, shared week-end activities, caught up on news (gossip) and generally enjoyed the sunshine and company.  The children wandered happily with friends from this to that ending up in the car show admiring, along with the local police chief,  a snazzy 1956 pick-up truck.

I was struck by the fact that indeed we did live in a place that is seen as fictional by many people.  For many the idea of wandering happily, visiting with friends and neighbors, in your town is hard to imagine.  Some can't visualize a world where children run freely through friendly crowds.  Some can't believe that there are places where no one worries about bombs, gunfire, strife, war, famine, persecution, and terror.  For others the idea of the freedom to choose to live in a small town, city, or anyplace is a dream.  A place where ice cream cones, funnel cakes, and hamburgers are part of the fun, not a meal to a starving child.  A place where security, peace, and even the right to live are not things we had to fight for.

Sometimes we are so busy yelling about the things wrong with our country we forget to be thankful for the things that are right.