Walking in a small town...

October 11, 2012
As I was out walking this morning I had three people stop and ask if my truck had broken down, had it run out of gas or did I need a ride...And this was all within a block of my starting point and I only walked two of these 'city' blocks. I'm sure had I walked farther I might would have had the opportunity to meet a good number of town folks! I thanked them all and we parted ways with smiles and laughter. 
I must admit, it is not easy for me to walk alone in a town full of people I don't know and I don't blame this on any particular town. I've been this way everywhere I've ever lived, regardless. I'm not handicapped to much extent, unless you happen to count that visual issue, but I try to look past that with the good eye. But I am self-conscious and I am shy, as surprising as that might be to many who think they know me, and that is an even greater handicap than partial blindness. And while I know that walking is good for my mind, body and soul, it remains a struggle for me to do.
Yet as I walked this morning and had three strangers stop and inquire if I needed help, their simple acts not only warmed my heart, but these people touched my soul as well. Their thoughtfulness and consideration in stopping to offer help if needed goes back to a time that too many of us have forgotten. A time when you offered to help not only a stranger, but perhaps even that neighbor you didn't particularly care for because it was the right, and the good, and the polite thing to do. Because you had been taught all of your life that you reap what you sow and if you helped someone in need, that same help would come to you later when you needed it. And because in a small town, your neighbors were essentially an extention of your family and of yourself and even if you don't particularly like them, you do respect them.
All in all this morning, I had 3 people stop and offer help, eight people I don't know drive past and wave, one short little dog with a big bark ordering me to move along, a greeting by a lovable cat in the middle of the road and a polite nod and wave from the sheriff. As I arrived back at my truck, with the muscles in my legs screaming and begging for mercy, I was smiling and thinking, "What a great way to start a morning!"