Saturday, March 2, 2013

Journal 28


Once in a while I go over to visit some of my family that lives in a small town about an hour away from where I live.  I have been going there ever since I was little and it has always amazed me.  When people say that in small towns there are no secrets and that everyone knows everyone, well, I guess that it’s true.  When I would go in town with my family, it seemed so astonishing to me, especially when I was younger, that people would walk up to my uncle or aunt and ask how other members of the family had been doing (mentioning them by name), and then my aunt or uncle would do likewise.  This happened a lot.  We would walk in a store and a person working there or perhaps another customer would see us, or perhaps we would see him or her first, and a whole new conversation would begin.  It boggled my mind how the town was such a close-knit community.  “Are there any people here”, I thought, “that don’t know one another?”  Also notable, perhaps tying in with the personal connections is that the people seemed really friendly.  I live outside a small to moderate size city where life is much less personal.  Some people that you pass are a bit rude, workers may be impartial, and if you wait two seconds before turning on a green light then you most likely will get honked at, perhaps with a middle finger.  This is definitely not the case where my family lives.  Even though it is only about an hour’s drive away, the people in general are much more polite, the workers all seem cooperative and friendly, and horns might as well be non-existent.  It is difficult to explain, but the town had its own feel to it.  People there are kind and welcoming.  I really enjoy going to visit.  One just has to make sure that he or she is not going over the speed limit or breaking any other traffic violations, otherwise his or her name will be put in that week’s paper. 

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