Early this summer, my parents were moved from South Dakota to serve three churches in rural North Central North Dakota. My father's ministry has taken us to many small towns in Vermont, Montana, Minnesota and North Dakota. I'm a small town person at heart.
Sure, I like the conveniences of big city living - large stores that are opened 24/7, ready accessibility to health care and entertainment (movies and concerts) that come right to your doorstep. But, I also miss the spirit of community in a town where everyone knows almost everyone. People look out for each other. Sometimes, they keep watch a little too closely. As a teenager, I knew that any infraction I committed would be reported to my parents before I got hom. I guess it really does take a village to raise a child.
My parents' new home hosted a Midsummer Fest in June and I thought I would mosey up and take in the festivities. I took my trusty companion and giant Golden Retriever, Lucy, with me for company. We headed off early in the morning, Lucy riding shotgun, in search of some fun. The car passed through the city limits about 9:30 a.m. and I could tell we were in for some big "doings"! The parade was already getting lined up, but there were still some choice seats to be had. We dragged the lawn chairs and I was dragged by the dog to a great vantage point. Joined a short time later by my brother and his family, we enjoyed a small town parade. My nephews got more candy in half an hour than a good night of trick-or-treating. When the veterans reached a point in the parade. Everyone stopped, got off their floats and sang the national anthem. Wonderful!
We stored the chairs and Lucy at the parsonage and headed off to the City Park for a free lunch. People were lined up at the shelter serving hot dogs. Everyone was very pleasant as the new Pastor showed off his family. Until now, most of them had only seen the back of my head as I sat in worship. We spotted a place to sit on the grass and enjoyed our hot dogs, baked beans, chips and lemonade. After lunch, we enjoyed a small craft sale in the park, the boys won soda at the local FFA booth and I caught a couple minutes of the bed races. Yes, they really push beds down the street. It was brlliant!
We took in all of the festival - rummage sale at the Lutheran church, a not so silent auction at the school and a dinner at the community hall to raise money to repair the baby pool. By the time Lucy and I climbed into the car, it was almost nine and I was tired. As I pulled out of town, people I didn't know waved and waved right back. Lucy gave a farewell "woof" and we were gone.
October found Lucy and I on the road once again to Bowdon, North Dakota for their annual Duckfest. My mother has a talent for crocheting necklaces and we had signed up to have a table at the craft fair. We were once again met by friendly folk who helped us find our way around and pointed out some of the activities to us as we settled in. The school has been closed since 1993, but the town has kept up the building well as they have dreams of turning it into a hunting lodge someday soon.
I wandered down to the cafe' on Main Street for some lunch. As I opened the door, I was reminded that it is duck season and three fourths of the customers sported camo. It was a busy place and I as I placed my order to go, I watched many people come and go. One of the local business people ran in to pick up her to go order and took along silverware promising to bring it back at coffee time. The phone rang and the waitress answered and took a message to have Bill call home when he came in for coffee. The wife needed something at the grocery store across the street. A trio of hunters from Georgia were quite familiar with the waitress and helped themselves to drinks from the cooler and pies from the counter.
Our day was prosperous and we celebrated by taking in the German meal before leaving town for the day. It was a freewill offering and I was amazed at their trusting nature as I looked the spread - knoephla and kraut, knoephla soup,borscht, cheese buttons, two kinds of potatoe salad and kuchen by the tableful. Everyone was there from the local law enforcement to a couple celebrating 70 years of marriage the following Sunday. It was wonderful and the meal was delicious.
We returned the following day and my father and I returned to the cafe for breakfast. Many of the same people were at the restaurant and I felt like they were good friends. The Georgia hunters were in need of a chest freezer and were inquiring as to the possibility of buying one. One of the other customers overhead their requestand offered use of their freezer. An address was given; problem solved. I bet lots of problems are solved at the cafe. We were soon joined by my brother and his family. We spent the day enjoying more German fare, enjoying the unseasonably nice weather and watching the boys have fun. They cleaned up at a carnival held at the community center and now have more tractors than most implement dealerships in our area. Sales for my mother were brisk and I tried my hand at crocheting. My mother can make a necklace in about 20 minutes; I can churn out one every four hours on a good day. At the end of the day we were tired and ready for a good meal and a long nights' sleep.
We headed back to my parents' homebase and sampled a homemade pizza at a restaurant that had opened recently. As we watched UND send a better part of their football team to the hospital, we met a colorful waiter and enjoyed a family meal. Once again, I pointed the car south and Lucy watched for deer. It was so nice to give the boys a look at small town living where you can walk just about everywhere. Everyone knows everyone's business and it makes life a little easier to have someone help you carry that burden.
I live in a great town and have amazing friends. When tragedy strikes, people are there with a casserole and a helping hand. People call if you don't show up for church. Your family is their family. They cry with you, laugh with you and eat with you. We don't need a "fest" for that. It's all about community.
3 comments:
Interesting blog...in some ways, it reminded me of my own career and the small towns I have lived in. But it also made me think that we bring our small town values to the cities which we now populate...such things as the casseroles for those down on their luck. People in small towns are better at volunteering because we've had to. In cities, the fire departments - for example - are filled with paid professionals. In small towns, local merchants turn into fire fighters at a moments notice. Same way with EMTs and other important roles. Also, I wanted to attend those small town events, like I used to years ago. One of the most interesting ones was "Old Settlers Day" in Beach, ND. I was talking to a county commissioner in 1980 who told me he gave Pierre Wibaux his last ride in automobile. The state of Pierre now stands among the headstones in the town named after him - Wibaux, Montana.
Whoops, I meant to write "statue" not "state".
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