Small Towns

I grew up in a small town....I mean really small. We had maybe , 2000 people. Then I married and moved to another small town, maybe 2500 people. People that move here from cities and metropolitan areas are often quite uncomfortable until they get used to small town ways. It is a different experience from life in the city.

One of the first things that people notice is that you have to drive to get to the conveniences that they think are necessities. We don't have a mall, shopping centers, huge groceries, theaters, opera, ballet, sixteen different mega-box stores or a dozen restaurants. If we want daily necessities we go to Walmart (yes, there is a Walmart near about every small town in America!) . If we want to shop for fun then we drive, hey, it's a day out.

What we do have more than compensates.

We don't have a Arts Center but we do have a thriving and creative Children's Theater group that puts on outstanding shows. In large cities these budding artist might be lost in the crush of sheer numbers but here they are nurtured and give stellar performances that have helped earn numerous accolades. A spin-off has been an adult group that has given wonderful performances to sell out crowds. (There is nothing quite so much fun as being able to say, "I live next door to the star!")

We don't have a huge department store but we do have an outstanding Christmas Bazaar and Bake sale put on by the Homemakers Clubs and the Crafters Guild. There you can buy hand knitted hats, hand printed silk scarves, softer than clouds alpaca socks that started on the Alpaca, wooden toys, hand crafted jewelry, Christmas decorations, ornaments and gifts. You can cut your baking time by buying jam cakes, stack pies (if you don't know what they are--it's another story), coffee cakes, yeast rolls, cakes, cookies and candies. You won't find their equal in any of the fancy mall stores.

The best part of small towns is the one thing that drives people craziest when they first encounter it. Everyone knows you and all about you. It's really hard to hide or be invisible. I've had people comment that they were called by name by people they had never met. Sure, because they had met that person's daughter, cousin, neighbor, or friend and they had told them about you. It means that news travels fast because we tend to share our interest and concerns about each other. So don't be surprised when the check-out lady in the grocery congratulates you on your child's award at school. She's not being nosy just happy for the accomplishment. In the same way if you've had the flu or an illness in the family you may have the teller at the bank inquiring about everyone's recovery. She's picked it up because her sister-in-law was behind you at the drug store when you bought supplies. Don't be offended!! It's just their way of showing their concern.

You really don't appreciate this attribute until life hands you real troubles. When catastrophes come small towns turn out to help and comfort. Suddenly there is food for families, hugs for comfort, baby-sitters for children, and helping hands for any chore. You don't have to ask, it just arrives. I have seen examples that have shocked those not familiar with small towns. Prescriptions that have come due during a crisis that the pharmacist has called to see if they needed it and then delivered it himself. Cars loaned until repairs can be made, groceries delivered in snowy weather, teachers giving kids rides home from school, neighbors taking care of pets when you can't get home because of a crisis, and on and on. Small towns are best at taking care of their residents in times of need.

Yes, all this also means that if you have a falling out with your Aunt Susie over Thanksgiving dinner you might find the lady at the library asking if you have patched up your quarrel yet!! However, on a whole, it's a small price to pay for the love and kindness of living in a small town.

Aunt Doe

There are some people who will always remain larger than life.  Some by what they accomplish, some by events around them and some by just who they are.  One such person was Aunt Doe.  She wasn't any relation but in the era I grew up in all adults were Mr. or Mrs., unless they were close friends then you could address them by their first name, but usually with uncle or aunt in front as a honorific..  She was the mother of the local doctor and a widow for some years.  She was one of those people who always have time to visit with a child, however she was also one of those people you might not want your child to visit with.  She was notorious for saying exactly what she thought.  She was a local wit who kept everyone on their toes and laughing. To me, Aunt Doe was just my special friend. 

She held court each afternoon at the local drug store.  At around 3 pm all the women gathered for a coke and gossip.  It was an event not to be missed.  My real aunt, Aunt Anne, was graciously tolerant of our traipsing in and out of her house, until 2:00 rolled around.  At that time she would retire into her bathroom to begin the process of getting ready to go to town to the drug store.  We knew that any crisis from then on we'd have to deal with on our own.  Even my mother, who worked, would arrange her day to be on her break in time to go to the drug store.  I'm not sure if it was all for the fun or to protect yourself, but they all showed up. 

One day the gossip was still hot when a young matron rose to leave, saying that she needed to get home to start supper for her husband.  Aunt Doe looked at her incredulously.  "You're cooking supper?" she inquired with surprise.  "How long have you been married?"  The young woman responded smugly, "Nearly 8 months."  Aunt Doe howled with laughter. "and you're already cooking supper.  I was married two years before I cooked a meal.  I would meet Thomas at the door each evening wearing my most revealing negligee and ask him if he wanted supper or.......never did have to cook for two years!"  That was Aunt Doe. 

She's the one that stopped me from sucking my fingers.  I don't know how old I was, but old enough to have given up sucking on my fingers.  I would walk around when I thought no one was looking with my middle two fingers in my mouth.  Nothing my mother had tried would induce me to quit the habit.  Aunt Doe called me over one afternoon at the drug store and said "You know what is going to happen to your fingers if you keep sticking them in your mouth?  Well, I'll tell you.  See that old man sitting over there?  Well, he used to do the same thing and one day a big boy came along and slapped him on the back.  That caused him to bite down on his fingers and he bit them off!!"  I gazed at her in awe but didn't remove my fingers.  "Hey, Bud!" she called, "You come over here and show this girl your fingers."  The gentleman did as he was told (no one ever refused  Aunt Doe) and walked over.  "Hold out your hand", she ordered.  He did and to my amazement the middle two fingers on his right hand were gone down to the first knuckle!  I stood in total shock and slowly my fingers slid down from my face.  I never sucked my fingers again.  I might forget and slide them in my mouth but then the horrible picture of those two missing fingers would appear and they would come right back out.  Cruel by today's standards?  Maybe, but it worked!

Nothing was off limits for her.  She called the local mortician over one day to her table.  She had some instructions for him.  "When I die,"  she said, "I want you to be sure and get my very best bra for me to wear.  I want my Betty Boops to be standing high and proud when everyone comes to see me. "  The drug store erupted in laughter as the startled mortician beat a hasty retreat. 

When the time came however, we were all happy to see that he had remembered and obeyed.