Small Town

This blog is all about faith and life in a small town.  Today I watched as some of that unfolded in front of my eyes.

At SS Philip & James School in Canal Fulton, it is sometimes as though time has stood still.  The children were playing out on their modern playground which almost spoils the picture and then I heard it -- distinct and clear.  The sound of a hand bell calling the children from their play.  Just like the Little Rascals.  I expected to see Miss McGillicuddy at any minute.  And the little kids swarmed out of their playground area towards the side door on a sunny but chilly Friday afternoon.

At precisely 3:13 p.m. two boys came out of the front doors of the school and headed for the flagpole in front of the school.  They do this every single day, the same boys.  They carefully worked the ropes and slowly and respectfully brought the flag down the tall pole, and then after removing it, they folded it military style in the triangle manner.  One boy always carries the flag inside with his arms crossed in front of his chest and the flag gently covered for its safekeeping.  The other boy secures the ropes for the next morning's flag raising.

I wanted to sing Taps.

Across the street from the school is a very old house.  White, of course, with a lovely porch.  Two stories and well maintained.  My friend, Sue, lives there with her husband.  The side of their house hugs the church's parking lot.  She has told me that on snowy evenings she always takes a peek outside to see the view of the street.  The street's old brick has been exposed and looks quaint and lovely.  The street lights here and there light up the snow, and she says it is like Currier and Ives.  She's lived there for a while and she still can't quite get over it.  The street could easily be used for a commercial.

There is a pink colonial home next to the priest's house.  And next to that is a lovely aqua colonial home.  While it might sound a little discordant, it is very pretty.

Six school buses are parked in front of the school by 3:15 each day and another two or three are on the side street waiting their turn.  Everything is methodical and orderly.  There is no chaos.

The children who are picked up by parents wait across the street from the school until the teacher crosses them and sees their parent or grandparent and calls out their name.  Safety is always first.

Life in a small town.  It just doesn't get much better than this, and I get to watch it twice a week every single week.  I'm so blessed!! 

The sign of a good school or a good family is just this:  teaching respect.

Have a great day.