Small Town, Big Heart 4/21/2021

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

It occurs to me that I have resided every day of my forty-three years of existence in a small town. They have varied in their smallness, but none have even come close to remotely qualifying as anything but small.  As of late, I have heard some disparaging remarks made about small towns and the qualities that are found therein. I feel I can speak with a certain level of expertise due to my having lived my whole life, which isn’t short, in small towns as to the what the reality of this life is.  Allow someone who has participated in this community for as long as she has been, elaborate on the ins and outs, with a wholesome wee tale of life in a little town. Obviously, this may not be a scenario that everyone from a small town will have exactly experienced, but I do feel a certain amount of comfort that I won’t be too far from relatable.

My parents live only about ten minutes from me. I was on my way to their house I believe, and saw in the distance large figures in the road. A random dog or two going on a neighborhood stroll is not particularly uncommon to see so I assumed that is what we were coming upon.  As my vehicle approached though something about the size and the movement didn’t seem quite right. Surely these weren’t people sauntering about in both lanes. Whatever they were, they were definitely something out of the ordinary road fare. The closer I got the more I remembered where I was and the more certain I felt as to what I was seeing.  You see, I was nearing a farm. This farm is owned by a fellow that I went to school with. The unique quality of this farm is, that he seems to be raising sneaky little escape artist cows. I know of at least three occasions, possibly more, where I have had to contact him and let him know that the had some of his stock out and about.  This time it was three calves and was a much more sticky situation as calves, being children, tend to act like, well, children.

Two black and one silvery grey calf were bouncing about from lane to lane. I honked my horn and tried to shoo them and they would run but often toward danger rather than home. I had to send a message to my former classmate telling him he had some calves living dangerously. He had apparently just been wrangling them and hadn’t gotten far from home.  He profusely thanked me and assured me he was turning around.  He later let me know that, of course, by the time he got home they had moseied back into their pasture. I told him kids these days.  He chuckled and agreed.

I don’t suppose in a bigger metropolis one would come upon an animal and know to whom it belonged.  And it likely wouldn’t belong to someone you’ve known since you were a teenager.  It also probably wouldn’t be likely that the moment the person saw your message, they knew that those escape artist bovines were at it again.  The idea that everyone knows everyone in a small town is accurate really.  And while there are times when such a concept would have off-putting connotations, in a case like this, where a gorgeous almost blue calf thought that a fun way to get out of the way of one car was to run in front of a large truck that couldn’t see it over the rise of a hill, in that case a neightbor letting you know of the situation was a blessing.  It was pretty stressful for us vehicular travelers. It should have been stressful for the little beeflets in the road but judging by their kicks and frolics I don’t think it was nearly as traumatic as it should have been. I sense I may be sending that same message again because something tells me lessons were not learned.

Because they’re small, it’s true that little communities are often closely knit.  Most people know, or at least know of the better part of the inhabitants. But rather than it being the hotbed of gossip and salacious talk that many portray it to be, it’s actually quite like a family. You let someone face a tragedy like a house fire or the loss of loved one, the whole lot will band together to pool all their resources and sacrifice their time, money and often even be willing to go without just to meet the needs of others.  Do we occasionally get on each other’s nerves?  If you have family members you know the answer to that.  But you also wouldn’t trade them for the world. You’d fight for them. Sometimes they do things you wish they wouldn’t, things that don’t shine the most thrilling of lights upon your family, but they’re yours and you love them in spite of it.  The family dynamic is really the most accurate description of a small town. A bunch of little family branches scattered out over different households sprinkled among hay fields and cattle pastures. This is the life I live, and I’d highly recommend it.