I live in a small rural community. My road is what you would call a “dead end”. I’ve always disliked that term and would prefer “no outlet,” but preferences and rules always have a conflict with rules winning out. Anyway, my “dead end” is a microcosm of age and interests.
At the start of my road is a boarding house for transient folks who come and go as needed. Some of my neighbors with little kids don’t like it and I understand their concern, but community is just that: a community of people living in the same vicinity each trying to survive as best they can.
We are not a tribe where mutual trust is the rule. We are a collection of unrelated people who happen to be living in proximity at the same time for the same purpose. Life!
When you travel the world you witness much more of this type of living than you do in the United States. In Malaysia I saw mansions side by side to shacks; the same thing in Nairobi, Kenya. It is what it is.
What is seemingly unique to this neighborhood, based upon my experience of living in many other places is that, apart from the transient rooming house, we each know the other's name and we each look out for the other.
We have the elderly and infirmity close by. We have the young with babies. We have pre-teen youngsters. We have all spectrums of income and all political ideals. We rarely socialize, but we talk with each other and our commonalty is concern for the other. I’m not sure you can find that in a lot of places, but it flourishes here.
I am thankful for this place.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
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