Dear Big City,
It seems difficult to believe that I have lived here in you for only five days. Surely the time has stretched to five weeks, simply on account of the volume of experiences we have had, Only last Thursday I was driving wide-eyed through busy streets, trying desperately to navigate my way safely into a Sunoco before I completely ran out of gas,
Things are busier here, yes? Instead of three stoplights in the five miles into town, there are three in as many blocks. Drivers are confident, too–and you may certainly assume that this was my nice Southern way of implying other things. I keep stopping in my tracks to marvel how many people live in this gigantic metropolis. I am still learning to thread my way through these streets of rowhomes just to get to the main avenue.
I have also noticed all sorts of interesting daily events that come with this big city neighborhood. Amplified, drum-like music wafts through our windows on a regular basis–another neighbor must be enjoying a drive through town. The ice cream truck makes a daily appearance, coming each day right around 6 pm (poor big city mamas with their suppertimes!). Most interesting of all, I rarely see a person who looks very much like me. Truly, all nations, tribes, and tongues congregate in this one tremendous junction.
Still, big city, there are little-town details I love to notice all around me. The man from the alley behind us always comes back around suppertime, walking his great big dog, and no sooner does he reach home then he comes right back out with a little dog in tow, walking the two together evening after evening. The little girls next to us love playing in their kiddie pool these hot days, and the littlest lady often screams with glee whenever her older sister splashes her. And oh, what joy my heart experienced today when I got to hang my clothes out to dry in my own tiny little backyard, right alongside our garden. What big delights these little details bring!
And might I add, thank you, big city, for not being so hot these past few days. This little-town girl is still getting used to operating without air conditioning. So far, she doesn’t mind it too much. After all, the butter softens up beautifully for supper just by sitting on the window sill!
As I sit here by the window, watching another of the dozen and a half neighbors arrive home in the alley, I am content. You’re very different, big city, but I think I’ll like you these next four years. No matter how busy or strange you may seem, you’ll always have my Savior in you, and His presence makes an earthly heaven wherever I may go.
Little Town Girl