“He had to accept the fate of every newcomer to a small town, where there are plenty of tongues that gossip and few minds that think.” Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
This is, alas, the way many people who don’t live in them think of small towns and communities: hives of gossip and speculation, insular and small-minded, closed off to the wider world. In the minds of many big-city folk, small towns are backwaters where things of import rarely happen; the sort of place where, in the glib patter of urban newscasters when tragedy strikes them, everyone knows everyone else.
Those of us who live in small communities know how false this perception is. Small, rural towns are the life-blood of the province, the veins and arteries that fuel its pumping heart. Our young people may leave them to pursue education and careers; but many of them return, realizing that there is something there which nourishes the spirit in a way that big cities often cannot manage.
There is the quiet pleasure of walking down the street and passing, in one short stretch, half-a-dozen people you know; not just to nod to, but to stop and chat with. There are shopkeepers who will let you take something home on spec (“Just bring it back if it isn’t right”) or who will open up late for an emergency purchase (“Come in on Monday and pay for it then”) or page you over the loudspeaker when you’ve left your cellphone at home and your husband wants to remind you to pick up cat food.
There are people who will take a look at you and ask in genuine concern “I hope you can get some rest; you look tired.” There are volunteers who are here, there, and everywhere, giving of their time to make sure things get done, whether it be by putting on events, keeping the town beautiful, or helping those who need a hand.
“The man who lives in a small community lives in a much larger world. He knows much more of the fierce variety and uncompromising divergences of men… . In a large community, we can choose our companions. In a small community, our companions are chosen for us.” G.K. Chesterton, Heretics
Tragedy struck one of our small towns in May, taking from it a man whose efforts over more than three decades helped build and maintain the fabric of his community and others beyond it. During the past few weeks, people rallied together in support of the family, the community, and each other. It not only brought out the best in many people, it revealed the depth of that “best”, and how much of it is out there.
Last Saturday was an opportunity for these people to come together: to grieve, yes, but also to celebrate. They grieved the loss of a fine man taken far too soon, but also celebrated that life, which was well-lived and full of joy, compassion, love, and a spirit of fun.
Those attributes could rightly be used to describe our small towns, which may appear dull and lacking on the surface. Look not very far under that surface, however, and you will find joys and delights, marvels and surprises, friendship and assistance, support and care. Cherish that for the wonderful gift it is.
“There may be no secrets in small towns, but there are no strangers either.” R.A. Mathis, Falling Down