In my hometown, most businesses close for Easter to allow families time together. The majority of signs and billboards carry the graphic of either a cross or an empty tomb while the local newspaper prints the Easter story in the King James Version.
Folks in my hometown understand the symbolism of the season and aren’t shy about declaring their belief in God.
On Good Friday, our family moseys over to the Western Sizzlin’ for a huge salad buffet, well-done steaks and the ice cream machine.
Mosey is a word we don’t use in KC because nobody moseys in the city. Yet in small towns, folks mosey across the intersections, mosey into the stores and lollygag at anyone who doesn’t know how to mosey.
In my hometown, you will likely run into relatives, a colleague or someone from your church. And even if you make a new acquaintance at the ice cream machine, it will be a friendly conversation.
“Weather treatin’ ya’ okay?”
“You from here or just visitin’?”
Someone who knows my family will inevitably challenge me with the question, “When you movin’ back here to help take care of your mama?”
Folks in small towns grow loyal families to populate the town, support the schools and run the businesses. If you leave, you’d better have a good reason and if you’re a really decent person, you’ll move back and make your family happy.
That’s why hope grows in small towns. Because everyone hopes you will move back, help with mama and increase the population by at least one.
When I visit my hometown and mosey into the stores, I pick up the Okie accent that never really leaves my tongue. I drive more slowly and don’t take chances at the yellow lights because I’m not in a hurry.
At Braums – where everybody goes for an ice cream fix in the afternoon – I wave at strangers and talk about the wheat crop.
Although the world is rapidly changing, folks in small towns still trust each other and somehow mosey their way into each other’s hearts.
Obviously, I miss small towns and the heritage they provide. I miss the folks I know and those I don’t know, because their lives are simpler, purer and steeped in the values of country traditions.
These precious folks live somewhat sheltered lives, safe within their bungalows and the farm lanes they drive in their pickup trucks. They treasure family and work ethics while hanging on to the faith of their ancestors.
Although I know my work is here in the KC Metro, a weekend visit is all it takes to transport me back to the security of my foundation and the people who keep hope alive.
©2015 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh