WHY I love WHERE I live.

My friend from Albuquerque came to stay the night last week, due to the hail storm (discussed later). She said that she was surprised she liked my home. I’m not sure what she expected. She also said that waking up in my house felt a little like camping; I’m hoping that refers more to the birds outside the window than the quality of her bed. Housing aside, I thought it would be worthwhile to describe a few of the reasons I love the community in which I live.

* The last week of school, my students did plays. They were short plays; I think all three together took about 10 minutes, but the kids worked hard and did well. I allowed them to perform multiple times for other classes, and encouraged them to invite their families, expecting perhaps the few most faithful parents. I never expected that a total of 33 parents, grandparents, and siblings of my 18 students would come in at various times to watch and clap and smile.

* Santa Rosa is on I-40. Sadly enough, that means there are often wrecks and some of those are truck wrecks (as in 18 wheelers). Now, I am not saying I’m happy that there is a wreck. What does make me happy is that in a small town, it’s not just the local garbage service hauling the cargo to the dump. That may happen, but let me tell you - our clean up folks know how to recycle. Everybody in Santa Rosa ate strawberries ‘til we turned red and started dripping earlier this spring. This summer - well, we’re working on turning green and softening up from the avocados someone rescued!

I only took a few. There were these times a hundred.

* On the 3rd of July, we had hail. Oh, did we have hail, and I was stuck in town. I’m sure the radio station reported on the hail, although I wasn’t listening, but I couldn’t help but compare the “news” with the news of storms I’d experienced in Albuquerque. There was no immediate TV coverage, no traffic reports, and, since it’s summer, no phone chains for school - but there were neighbors running down the street. “Can you reach ----? Their carport fell over!” Or calling to one another, “You can’t cross the bridge! But I’ll help you push your car out of the drift” Texts flew from one end of town to the other, reporting damage and traffic conditions, what could and could not be moved or changed. No one really needed the media. We had one another.

* On the 4th of July, we celebrated. We drove by the 3 foot high hail drifts and set off fireworks on the wet, wet ground. I must interrupt to describe the absolute most “All-American” meal I’ve ever eaten all at once: hamburgers, watermelon, corn on the cob, salad, and homemade ice cream... Anyway, Santa Rosa’s firework show was set off at the lake and watched from the church. We arrived as a group of friends and departed with a group of townspeople who liked the parking lot view (and our ice cream). The fireworks were huge and a long display for a small town, with individual individuals adding their home shows on the sides.

* On the 5th of July we had a parade. It was a fast parade and those of us who were going to walk beside the float could not keep up. We ran as far as we could and dropped off. Two 8 year olds had more energy than the rest and stayed with the float all the way to the park. They had to drop off too, and at the end, no one could find them. Let me tell you about life in a small town. These two 8 year olds are probably related to half the town, and despite the worry during the search, I think we all knew they were not really lost - we had simply lost them. (They wisely and safely returned to where the parade began.) 

Rural communities are more about people than place. And God's gift of community thrives in places where people cannot avoid one another.

These are my dad's cows after it rained. I had to put the picture somewhere.