There is [almost] nothing I love more than coming home. For a weekend, a break, a day. No matter what time it is, it brings me an immense, overwhelming feel of happy nostalgia. Being only 21 years old, I find it humorous when I drive around town and point at what-used-to-be, what-still-is, and what-is-going-to-be like my parents driving around their old hometowns. Sometimes, I can catch things I remember in the "Remember When..." section in our local paper. Of course, not enough to count, but enough to make me think "wow, I am old." However, mixed with these feelings of nostalgia are feelings of total, immeasurable love.
I was very much like the average middle school to mid-high schooler. I hated where I was growing up. It was boring and conservative and awful in virtually every way, shape, and form. I mean, how can anyone choose to live in a place like this? Yuck. But, mainly, I couldn't wait to get out. Nothing was more tempting than the thought of packing my bags and moving to the big city! New York City, to be exact. The word "country" was removed from my vocabulary, and never ever would I ever find myself loving any part of it. No matter what.
Of course, I grew out of that stage. Well, I was talked out of the stage. By my good friend, Jennifer. To give some background: this girl was everything I ever hoped to be! An amazing musician, a great singer, active in theater other than the one community theater I'd heard of at the time, and popular. Oh! And wickedly smart. I wanted to be worthy of her friendship so badly. Luckily, me being active in middle school/high school theater along side her, I was able to befriend her (not as I-must-change-to-be-friends-with-the-popular-kids as you were thinking, eh?). So, as you can imagine, if there was anyone I would listen to and put their opinion into consideration, it was Jennifer's. Anywho! She always raved about what an amazing place we live in. She went on about how it's not a No Man's Land, or a huge bustling metropolis. It's a small enough town with a lot more gems than you'd think.
Not long after I started reconsidering my hatred for the place I was surrounded by two amazingly influential people who moved to town. The two new pastors of the Darlington United Methodist Church (the church I attend). They were pretty fresh out of seminary (or at least a bit fresher than what this town was used to). They had just come in from California (so, they're movie stars, right?) and very exciting to this Junior-in-high-school gal! It wasn't too long after they moved in, they started saying stuff like "giving back" and "beautifying the town" and "appreciating our homes" and all sorts of strange stuff I had never thought of.
The point: after this girl I'd had this amazing girl-crush on spoke about how amazing it is we grew up here, then these two amazing people who are virtually perfect in my eyes started pointing out the importance of loving and giving back and appreciating nature, I realized! I live in an amazing place!
I live in a super-small town. So small, in fact, I have to drive about 15-20 minutes to a slightly bigger town in order to get groceries, hang out with friends, etc. And, yes, a majority of the town tends to lean on the conservative side. And, sure, not a whole lot to do all the time. But! We have one of the few covered bridges (and a beautiful nature preserve[ish] surrounding the creek) in Indiana. We have a growing small business downtown called The General Store (sure it sounds general, but hey. Ha. Get it? Anywho). We've got a golf course past the highway. We have three amazing churches that get together every time there is a fifth Sunday in a month (Woo! Churches are not competing businesses!). I just gotta say, I'm honored to call this my hometown.
It's awesome that I grew up here. So many people see on television about how towns were in the 1950s and the small businesses and I can say I lived in one of those small towns. I'll have amazing stories to tell my kids. And the town is actually growing and evolving. It's been years since a small business has actually worked in this town (outside of the Hardware Store that's been here for EVER), and now people are taking notice and giving great business to The General Store (an amazing place to get yummy cookies and other baked goods, and my mom sells some artwork there with some other artists in the local area). Further, every time I come back home, I am reminded of the awesome times I had here. The beautiful scenery surrounding the town. The awesome feeling in the air when it is a perfect day to got outside and ride your bike all over town from dawn to dusk. Seeing all the local boys and girls playing T-Ball and seeing the little kids get distracted by an ant they found while not paying attention to the game. The wonderful, friendly neighbors who, no matter what, always remember your name (or your face) and go out of their way to say a friendly "hello." To the stories our amazing librarian tells of his past Sheriff times. The memories of sneaking down to Honey Creek, thinking we were such rebels to thrown rocks into the already-filled-with-rocks creek.
All of this winding down to this evening. When I went to take some homemade baked mac n' cheese to my pappaw. He lives just outside of town, meaning in the country, where is closest neighbor is about two miles east of his house. I was watching the last of the sun's rays reaching past the evening clouds. So close to set, that the sun was a firey orange that made the trees glisten and the clouds around it turn purple. I heard this odd sound. I thought, at first, my grandfather had fallen and yelled something form inside. Him being alone, it scared me. I jumped to run inside, but right before I started running, I looked up at the sky. Flying above me was an enormous line of geese coming back from a winter's trip south. Now, who knows if they're spending the rest of the spring here, or if they're going to have to go back for a few weeks. Nonetheless, it was a sight to behold.
I was reminded of a ritual of the geese. See, they hold true to the buddy system. If there is a goose falling behind in flight, there is another goose to stay behind with him or her. Isn't that amazing? Birds. Animals. We strip them of all human qualities, but when one falls behind, there is always another to help out. For no matter what happens, they're in it together. Not unlike where I grew up. Not unlike school, either.
I may venture to say that, wherever you are, wherever you grew up, wherever you're going to go, there will always be someone there to help you. To say "we're in this together." To remind you "you're not alone." If we look around us, I would venture to say there are countless people around to that want nothing more than to love us and see us succeed. Isn't that amazing? Sure, we have the people who might be against us. We've got those we are against. We've got those we don't even know. But no matter who you are, I bet you got double all of those in people who love, respect, and look up to you. The world isn't against you. The world is waiting for you to take its hand. For you're in it together. You'll get there. I promise.
Woo!
Mary Taylor
A beautiful picture by my friend, Mr. Chuck Gleason, of our local Covered Bridge. This small town is FULL of history. Browse our homepage a bit. http://darlingtonindiana.com/
I was very much like the average middle school to mid-high schooler. I hated where I was growing up. It was boring and conservative and awful in virtually every way, shape, and form. I mean, how can anyone choose to live in a place like this? Yuck. But, mainly, I couldn't wait to get out. Nothing was more tempting than the thought of packing my bags and moving to the big city! New York City, to be exact. The word "country" was removed from my vocabulary, and never ever would I ever find myself loving any part of it. No matter what.
Of course, I grew out of that stage. Well, I was talked out of the stage. By my good friend, Jennifer. To give some background: this girl was everything I ever hoped to be! An amazing musician, a great singer, active in theater other than the one community theater I'd heard of at the time, and popular. Oh! And wickedly smart. I wanted to be worthy of her friendship so badly. Luckily, me being active in middle school/high school theater along side her, I was able to befriend her (not as I-must-change-to-be-friends-with-the-popular-kids as you were thinking, eh?). So, as you can imagine, if there was anyone I would listen to and put their opinion into consideration, it was Jennifer's. Anywho! She always raved about what an amazing place we live in. She went on about how it's not a No Man's Land, or a huge bustling metropolis. It's a small enough town with a lot more gems than you'd think.
Not long after I started reconsidering my hatred for the place I was surrounded by two amazingly influential people who moved to town. The two new pastors of the Darlington United Methodist Church (the church I attend). They were pretty fresh out of seminary (or at least a bit fresher than what this town was used to). They had just come in from California (so, they're movie stars, right?) and very exciting to this Junior-in-high-school gal! It wasn't too long after they moved in, they started saying stuff like "giving back" and "beautifying the town" and "appreciating our homes" and all sorts of strange stuff I had never thought of.
The point: after this girl I'd had this amazing girl-crush on spoke about how amazing it is we grew up here, then these two amazing people who are virtually perfect in my eyes started pointing out the importance of loving and giving back and appreciating nature, I realized! I live in an amazing place!
I live in a super-small town. So small, in fact, I have to drive about 15-20 minutes to a slightly bigger town in order to get groceries, hang out with friends, etc. And, yes, a majority of the town tends to lean on the conservative side. And, sure, not a whole lot to do all the time. But! We have one of the few covered bridges (and a beautiful nature preserve[ish] surrounding the creek) in Indiana. We have a growing small business downtown called The General Store (sure it sounds general, but hey. Ha. Get it? Anywho). We've got a golf course past the highway. We have three amazing churches that get together every time there is a fifth Sunday in a month (Woo! Churches are not competing businesses!). I just gotta say, I'm honored to call this my hometown.
It's awesome that I grew up here. So many people see on television about how towns were in the 1950s and the small businesses and I can say I lived in one of those small towns. I'll have amazing stories to tell my kids. And the town is actually growing and evolving. It's been years since a small business has actually worked in this town (outside of the Hardware Store that's been here for EVER), and now people are taking notice and giving great business to The General Store (an amazing place to get yummy cookies and other baked goods, and my mom sells some artwork there with some other artists in the local area). Further, every time I come back home, I am reminded of the awesome times I had here. The beautiful scenery surrounding the town. The awesome feeling in the air when it is a perfect day to got outside and ride your bike all over town from dawn to dusk. Seeing all the local boys and girls playing T-Ball and seeing the little kids get distracted by an ant they found while not paying attention to the game. The wonderful, friendly neighbors who, no matter what, always remember your name (or your face) and go out of their way to say a friendly "hello." To the stories our amazing librarian tells of his past Sheriff times. The memories of sneaking down to Honey Creek, thinking we were such rebels to thrown rocks into the already-filled-with-rocks creek.
All of this winding down to this evening. When I went to take some homemade baked mac n' cheese to my pappaw. He lives just outside of town, meaning in the country, where is closest neighbor is about two miles east of his house. I was watching the last of the sun's rays reaching past the evening clouds. So close to set, that the sun was a firey orange that made the trees glisten and the clouds around it turn purple. I heard this odd sound. I thought, at first, my grandfather had fallen and yelled something form inside. Him being alone, it scared me. I jumped to run inside, but right before I started running, I looked up at the sky. Flying above me was an enormous line of geese coming back from a winter's trip south. Now, who knows if they're spending the rest of the spring here, or if they're going to have to go back for a few weeks. Nonetheless, it was a sight to behold.
I was reminded of a ritual of the geese. See, they hold true to the buddy system. If there is a goose falling behind in flight, there is another goose to stay behind with him or her. Isn't that amazing? Birds. Animals. We strip them of all human qualities, but when one falls behind, there is always another to help out. For no matter what happens, they're in it together. Not unlike where I grew up. Not unlike school, either.
I may venture to say that, wherever you are, wherever you grew up, wherever you're going to go, there will always be someone there to help you. To say "we're in this together." To remind you "you're not alone." If we look around us, I would venture to say there are countless people around to that want nothing more than to love us and see us succeed. Isn't that amazing? Sure, we have the people who might be against us. We've got those we are against. We've got those we don't even know. But no matter who you are, I bet you got double all of those in people who love, respect, and look up to you. The world isn't against you. The world is waiting for you to take its hand. For you're in it together. You'll get there. I promise.
Woo!
Mary Taylor
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