I love being from a small town and community. There is no place like home, but I love the commonality that spreads across each small town I have traveled through over the years. Ovando, Montana is the epitome of this. I love that there are still places like this to share with my children; the hometown feel you get when you walk through the doors of a small café or general store. I love that there is a “howdy” and a friendly smile from a stranger that make you instantly feel welcome. These are the roots of America, and I am proud to be part of that. So that is the story behind this story…
Small Town America
Somewhere across small town America, there are families still gathered on a Sunday morning in a church pew, thanking the Man upstairs for all the good in their lives. There are old men, farmers & cowboys, coaches and dads, preachers and sinners, husbands and brothers gathered in a small coffee shop swapping stories about the latest basketball game played, about kids these days, days gone by, the crops in the ground, calving season, politics, and the weather.
Somewhere across small town America, there are groups gathering for the greater good of human kind, striving to be both. They still work together to preserve and protect what is important, raise money for those in need, meant for a hand up, not a hand out. There are not agendas or ulterior motives, but simply effort made for the greater good.
Somewhere across small town America, there are still grandmothers sharing recipes, baking cookies, delivering hugs, and praying for family. They still grow gardens with fresh vegetables, pluck warm eggs from the hen house, and prepare Sunday supper from scratch.
Somewhere across small town America, there are handshakes still exchanged, a friendly wave from behind the wheel of a truck or tractor. Respect and morals still have value; where you honor your word given. There are still people willing to work hard every day, getting dirt on their hands and under their nails, and willing to give their neighbor the shirt off their backs.
Somewhere across small town America, man is still a little more connected with their fellow man. The cell phone service is sketchy at best, and nobody owns a dumb smart phone. They still put a stamp on a handwritten letter to mail to a friend across the miles. The TV is turned off and families are tuned in around a dinner table at night, talking about their day.
Somewhere across small town America, the roots of good work ethic and honesty run deep. Men are still men, and women are honored for more than the value of their looks. A place where you are judged on your honesty and word, not your religion, your skin color, gender, or last name.
Somewhere across small town America, soldiers and veterans are honored for serving their country and the sacrifices they make. Teachers teach American history and honor the Pledge of Allegiance and salute the flag.
Thank God for small town America. It is our job to uphold her, teach other generations the value of hard work, time unplugged from technology, spend more time outdoors exploring, instill a little less sensitivity and political correctness and a better sense of humor, and show appreciation for the freedom that rings. Look around your small town, and honor the foundation of it, those that had grit to establish it, and remember the blood, sweat and tears it took to build it.
God Bless small town America.
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