Something has been lost
Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, in small towns, there is a deeper understanding and knowledge of the people in your community. It is small and you don't have a choice of selecting who is in your world and who isn't. It means small town people put up with more of the unpleasantness of people, but some recent events have reminded me of a serious benefit to small town living.
I went to high school in a larger town (but a very small city). My religious congregation was rather small, compared to some, and was relatively stable for a time. It was a good example of a small town. Everyone was known. We all knew the various attributes (positive and negative) of all of our "small town" neighbors. Some you liked more than others, but you knew them all.
Recently, someone from that congregation had an accident with serious injury. They ended up in a hospital in the city where I live. This was someone who was "known" to me in the small town sense. My parents, who still lived in the "small town", were unavailable and couldn't visit the hospital. I volunteered to visit and to represent the family.
The person was in bad shape, and I wasn't allowed to see them personally, but I was able to talk to the spouse. There isn't anything a visitor to a hospital (who isn't a doctor) can do. These visits are, on the surface, simply an acknowledgement of the situation of another. On a deeper level, they are an offer to share the situation of another, and try to share a heavy burden. We talked, some tears were shed. The visit wasn't very long. It didn't take long, because our long association had already said most of what needed to be said. The history of our families had already said these very significant things:
1. I know you. I know who you are.
2. I accept you. Your faults and shortcomings are not something that limits my ability to associate with you.
3. I love you. My connection with you is one that transcends mortal sentiment. I see your value on an eternal level.
4. I will help you. You can count on me to lend assistance where and when I can. You do not need to say "please", or offer to pay. My knowledge of you has added depth and meaning to my life, and, as such, I view you as one of my own - part of my family, or even an extension of myself.
So, in less than 15 minutes, the foregoing sentiments were confirmed and reiterated. But, there was more. The spouse said, in essence, "You are just like your father. Even though he couldn't come, seeing you is like seeing him. We love your family."
Here, my place in my "small town" was reaffirmed, even though I no longer live there. My father and I are known well enough, and our similarities acknowledged, that we are able to represent each other and our interests in the community. Even though I have left the "small town" for a small city, I haven't lost my "small town" identity. I have experienced this on many occasions.
I can see how people who have only lived in a small town, could resent the inability to hide, be anonymous or avoid community expectations. But I have to say, as a city dweller, that I love knowing that there are people who know me. They don't need to see my business card. They don't need to read my bio. They know me, because I have lived with them and have become a part of them. Because I had it as a kid, as long as people from my "small towns" survive, that identity will continue.
Finally, why is that identity important? Because it is similar to the identity that we have with God. He loves us and accepts us. He knows our faults, our shortcomings and strengths. Our failures do not limit His love. I believe that is one reason we have the ability to love each other. It helps us to see how God could and does love us. Even when we are away from our "small towns", just as we are away from God, their love and influence can continue to comfort and influence us.
This recent experience has reminded me that people are important. They are important whether or not they can pay for your lunch. They are important even if they annoy you, don't believe like you or have hurt you. Because we are all cut from the same cloth, in order to love ourselves, we must love them. In order to complete ourselves, we must accept them.
Sorry to sound like a hippie, but this seemed important.
I went to high school in a larger town (but a very small city). My religious congregation was rather small, compared to some, and was relatively stable for a time. It was a good example of a small town. Everyone was known. We all knew the various attributes (positive and negative) of all of our "small town" neighbors. Some you liked more than others, but you knew them all.
Recently, someone from that congregation had an accident with serious injury. They ended up in a hospital in the city where I live. This was someone who was "known" to me in the small town sense. My parents, who still lived in the "small town", were unavailable and couldn't visit the hospital. I volunteered to visit and to represent the family.
The person was in bad shape, and I wasn't allowed to see them personally, but I was able to talk to the spouse. There isn't anything a visitor to a hospital (who isn't a doctor) can do. These visits are, on the surface, simply an acknowledgement of the situation of another. On a deeper level, they are an offer to share the situation of another, and try to share a heavy burden. We talked, some tears were shed. The visit wasn't very long. It didn't take long, because our long association had already said most of what needed to be said. The history of our families had already said these very significant things:
1. I know you. I know who you are.
2. I accept you. Your faults and shortcomings are not something that limits my ability to associate with you.
3. I love you. My connection with you is one that transcends mortal sentiment. I see your value on an eternal level.
4. I will help you. You can count on me to lend assistance where and when I can. You do not need to say "please", or offer to pay. My knowledge of you has added depth and meaning to my life, and, as such, I view you as one of my own - part of my family, or even an extension of myself.
So, in less than 15 minutes, the foregoing sentiments were confirmed and reiterated. But, there was more. The spouse said, in essence, "You are just like your father. Even though he couldn't come, seeing you is like seeing him. We love your family."
Here, my place in my "small town" was reaffirmed, even though I no longer live there. My father and I are known well enough, and our similarities acknowledged, that we are able to represent each other and our interests in the community. Even though I have left the "small town" for a small city, I haven't lost my "small town" identity. I have experienced this on many occasions.
I can see how people who have only lived in a small town, could resent the inability to hide, be anonymous or avoid community expectations. But I have to say, as a city dweller, that I love knowing that there are people who know me. They don't need to see my business card. They don't need to read my bio. They know me, because I have lived with them and have become a part of them. Because I had it as a kid, as long as people from my "small towns" survive, that identity will continue.
Finally, why is that identity important? Because it is similar to the identity that we have with God. He loves us and accepts us. He knows our faults, our shortcomings and strengths. Our failures do not limit His love. I believe that is one reason we have the ability to love each other. It helps us to see how God could and does love us. Even when we are away from our "small towns", just as we are away from God, their love and influence can continue to comfort and influence us.
This recent experience has reminded me that people are important. They are important whether or not they can pay for your lunch. They are important even if they annoy you, don't believe like you or have hurt you. Because we are all cut from the same cloth, in order to love ourselves, we must love them. In order to complete ourselves, we must accept them.
Sorry to sound like a hippie, but this seemed important.
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