We’ve all heard it said that "It takes a village to raise a
child". I was blessed with growing
up in a rural community that did just that.
Oh sure, our parents were the ones in charge of feeding us, making sure
we had clean clothes to wear, a roof over our heads, and all the necessities of
life, and most of all, loving us beyond any real definition of “love” could
be... but it was what I call the "nourishment of the soul" that the
community was a large part of.
There were all sorts of people in the community... some more kin to us than
others. There were Mom's parents,
Grandmother and Granddaddy, just across the field from us, and her two brothers
and their families. There were second
and third cousins all over the place.
Shoot, you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a cousin back in those
days... everybody was kin to everybody else.
Still are, for the most part, but there are lots of folks that have
moved in around these parts that didn't grow up here, so it's not quite so full
of only kin folk anymore.
And then there was the heart of the community, the one place that everyone
gathered at least once a week... a place that acted as community center and religious center... our church, and
all her people. It was the members of
the church that were our "other family". Granted, most were kin folk anyway, but they
were all family, no matter the blood line. All the mothers, grandmothers and aunts of
the church mothered all the children of the church. At some point or another, each one was a
Sunday School teacher, Bible School teacher, or Youth Fellowship leader, and
had some part in helping us learn how to treat other people, what was right
from wrong, and how to turn the other cheek, and abide by The Golden Rule. Every father, grandfather, and uncle has some
part in the goings on around there, and showed us the right way for a grown man
to behave, helped and guided us as the need arose, and showed us what dependability
and responsibility was all about and
why it was important for everyone to hold up their end of the deal.
Ours was (and continues to be) a loving church community. There are ladies in the church that I go up
to each Sunday and give a hug and call them one of my "Church
Moms". They were special to me
growing up. When I look back at my life
as a child, I see them as part of it, and understand why that, of all memories,
stuck. Whether they knew they were
teaching me or not, they helped me become the woman I am today. They helped to give me the firm foundation
that became the bedrock I so depended upon as I walked the rocky road called
Life. And now that I'm living back home
again, it's time I loved on them some, letting them know how very special they
were (and are) to me.
I think none of us truly realize how many lives we touch during our
lifetimes, nor the importance we play in those lives. If we knew, if we had any idea, we would
truly be overwhelmed with love and gratitude at having had the opportunity to
make a difference. That’s why it’s so
important to take the time now and then tell someone that made a difference in
YOUR life... thank them for what they did for you, explain why it made a
difference. It may seem to them as if it
was nothing really, but to you, it meant the world.
"To the world you may be just one person, but to one person, you may be the world."
~ Dr. Seuss ~
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