This morning I?was going through the drive-thru of a local fast food restaurant when the lady in line in front of me and I?caught reflections in her side mirror. We smiled and waved.
I proceeded to put down my window, stick my head out, and ask her how her daughter was feeling. You see, she is my husband’s second-cousin’s wife’s mother--or some such connection like that; I’m sure you understand.
She gave me a quick report, window-to-window, and we went on with our day.
As I drove away I thought, “I just love small towns!”
I had a similar feeling a couple weeks ago after writing a column about my daughter wanting to see a movie of the real Christmas story. A reader called me and said he had such a movie I was welcome to borrow. He even delivered it. Now how nice is that?
All this small-town togetherness makes me recall a conversation I heard at one of my high school class reunions. Two of my friends who now live in large cities were talking about how they love going to the grocery store and not knowing anyone there. In fact, one said if he sees someone he knows, then it’s time to switch stores.
They shared a laugh. I just thought it was sad.
Here local stores are still the Weaver’s Department Store of Mayberry. We visit with friends and neighbors in the aisles. Owners and employees know our likes and dislikes. I wouldn’t want it any other way.