Finding community in the community

The time I’ve spent in Shelby County has now been close to 35 years, including the year I lived here in 1981 staying with my parents. Mom and Dad discovered the comfort and joy of living in a small town following many years of fighting traffic, high crime rates, and invisible neighbors in a growing metropolis of three million plus.

Shortly after they arrived in 1978, torrential rains dumped upon Shelby County. They were renting a home off Fulsom Chapel at that time in the low part of the creek before the road was rebuilt later. Mom said when the snakes came into the home in the high waters, she left. Dad owned a small MG Midget, his pride and joy, which floated with the flooding rains down into the creek bed. They were devastated. Everything they owned, apart from a handful of important papers, was pretty much destroyed, or so they thought.

But … that’s where the community came in. Word got around that these “new people” had lost all their possessions. By the next day, the members of several churches came to the house to help. One gentleman had his crew pull Dad’s little car out of the mud and took it to his shop to repair and restore. Another group of young men from the area Mormon churches came and began to help carry possessions out of the house. The church ladies from surrounding congregations brought food; others took bedding and clothing to the laundry mat for cleaning, while others brought cleaning implements to sweep the mud and debris from the home. Some opened their homes for a rest and a dry bed.

I can say for certain that if this same thing happened in Phoenix, rather than being helpful, neighbors would have driven to my parent’s home and stared at their mess, shaking their heads, grateful it wasn’t them. My heart is very thankful for the outpouring of love and community shared to my parents throughout the years of their lives in Shelby County.

Community is a gathering place where people look out for each other. They bring a casserole when their neighbors are ill. They mow each other’s lawn when another is having medical treatments out of town. They do fund raisers for those who have lost everything through fire or flood. Community is a gathering of people who care.

Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don’t stand still and look around On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod: I go up to the stone wall For a friendly visit.

My parents experienced this firsthand. For them, it came as a cost. When they arrived in Center they got involved. Both Mom and Dad were active in their church. Dad was part of the men’s morning coffee klatch at the old McDonalds. He was involved in the Rotary Club, and he was a warm, smiling soul who never knew a stranger. You can still find his bird houses around Shelby County, an engineer caboose, or a paddle wheel river boat, sitting high on a perch in the yard. Many still own one of his dulcimers, which he hand-crafted with love. And, if someone happened to see him working out in his yard off Fulsom Chapel, he would always stop and take the time to visit, and most likely share a cup or two of coffee as well.

Bob and I experience community constantly through the “Shelby County Social Club” always found at one of our area stores. We feel it when we go to local prayer groups, well attended by those of different churches, but bound together through one faith. We build it, while holding true and fast in our church home, making sure everyone feels welcome, like my parents were made to feel at home all those years ago.

Community is where you find it, and many people in Shelby County have that sweet spirit that unites, making all feel welcome no matter what their background is. This big city girl, turned country, loves the community she found here in the Pineywoods, once she made friends with the critters and prolific bugs of all sizes.

Robert Frost understood the importance of welcoming all, especially in the poem below. He took time to find community in his community, and his words speak softly to us all about the importance of sharing our time and abilities with others, because isn’t that what we all wish for, that feeling of belonging?