There are some things that can only happen in a small town.
The phone rings. It’s Bill from three blocks over, which is nice, but he meant to call his son who lives across the creek. It doesn’t matter that he has the wrong number, you discuss the weather, his impending golf tournament and how his arthritis is affecting his swing.
Your paper ends up in the wrong mail box. Mary from the west end of town is on the phone. “I’ve got your Western Producer by mistake. When I’m done with it, I will drop it off or you can pick it up!”
The fire trucks go racing by, sirens blaring. As you race out to the street, pondering aloud where it’s going, your visitor from the city stares at you incredulously.
Only in a small town are the consultants to the mayor the guys from the coffee shop. They share their opinion whether it’s solicited or not. Good humour abounds and when the matter is serious it is treated as such. If the town crew is working on a project, they also have several senior consultants who will offer advice on the project.
Life drifts by with everyday events like these.
Then, the unbelievable happens. A world-wide pandemic. The town goes into shut-down mode. Our busy world grinds slowly down. Day after day, we adjust to the new normal and stay home.
People observe the social distancing rule. It’s hard for those who hug. We worry about and are grateful to those of our families and friends who are front line workers – the doctors, nurses, hospital staff, firemen and EMTs. But mostly, we do what small towns do. We look out for each other.
The local grocery stores start a delivery service to those shut in, leaving the groceries on their doorstep. The drug store delivers to the locked down senior’s lodge.
The local florist/farmer does a fundraiser and delivers beautiful bouquets of flowers to the senior’s lodge and extended care to brighten their days.
Churches hold emergency meetings and close their doors, but come up with plans to deliver online services. One local church provided “church in a bag,” hanging the Sunday service on the doorknobs of those without internet access.
All the fundraisers planned, cancelled without a word of complaint from organizers who have been working and planning in some cases for a year.
The young people end their sports seasons. For some of those it is their last year of playing school sports, hockey, dance. Graduation dresses and suits already bought hang in closets with the hope that they can be worn in the future.
Teachers deliver lessons online, dedicated and worried about their students. They fret not just about academics, but about their lives. They know that for some students, school is a sanctuary.
Sadly, planned funerals are canceled, leaving the families without much needed closure. People send letters and make phone calls to the families and leave parcels of food on doorsteps, sad that they can’t be with the families who are grieving.
My young neighbour across the street has decorated her windows with works of art. People have put on their Christmas lights. And everywhere, sidewalks are chalked with words of encouragement.
The towns remain optimistic and compliant, banding together even in our physical isolation, sure that better days lie ahead.
Stay safe everyone.
- Beth
