Remembering Why I’m Here
November 20, 2011
A nearby waterfall, after the late-summer 2011 flooding from Hurricane Irene's aftermath.
Last Sunday, we had an unseasonably warm afternoon. When we left church, my family and I decided to have an impromptu picnic lunch by a nearby waterfall (not actually the one pictured here). As we ate, a 6-year-old boy came and sat with us, conversing with all three of us. He was eventually joined by his parents, before they all went on their merry way.
From this encounter, I came away with two things:
1. Children are the ultimate cure for shyness. I am not one to talk to strangers when I’m out and about in the world, but my son very much is. Even when he was a baby, I would be approached by strangers telling me how adorable he was and striking up conversations with me. Sure, some of them were spouting unsolicited advice, but most of them were just making conversation – something I would never have stepped out of my shell to do. Now my little man vacillates between talking to random people, and pretending to be shy by making grumpy faces or hiding his face when people talk to him. Either way, though, his very presence invites conversations. And likewise, I find myself more likely to speak to people when they have children with them, as well.
2. I was struck with a profound sense of belonging. That family reminded me of the strong sense of community within this town. We are city enough to enjoy diversity, but small-town enough to be close-knit. I never appreciated either when I was younger, and I think I had to move away and back to really understand. Similarly, spending the early-afternoon surrounded by the natural beauty this area holds was a visual reminder of why I love being here.
I don’t regret (anymore) the time I spent in Florida; I feel it was a path I needed to take in order to find my way to where I am now. However, I am very, very thankful to be home. Not only is this where much of my family lives, but it’s also where my heart lives, as well.
