Life in a Small Town
“Do you have time to let me give you a demonstration of fountain pens before you go?”
The stationery shop’s proprietor smiled and waited for my answer. Her words surprised me. I was downtown with my mom, picking out a Birthday card for my daughter on a Friday afternoon when she asked. I paused. How long? Fountain pens? This woman seems like a sweet lady. How do I gracefully say no thank you?
I glanced at my mom, sensing she was interested. My thoughts continued. There’s no hurry. Saying yes to conversations is what slowing down looks like. My next words surprised me. “Sure, why not?”
We were led to a table in front of the store and sat down, where, for the next twenty minutes, we proceeded to learn all about fountain pens. The woman gave us pens and cute little notebooks of our own to keep--on the house. I had to concur; the luxurious feeling of writing with a really good pen was something special. Next, she showed us her private collection of fountain pens. Each one had a story. I love stories.
Twenty minutes, well spent.
That same day, my mom and I stopped in at a tea shop I wanted to visit, mainly because I thought it looked pretty from the outside. Once inside, I wasn’t disappointed: sparkling crystal chandeliers, shabby pastel-colored antique furniture, and whimsical embellishments complemented a menu of pastries, tea, and coffee.
Not long after we’d settled in with our tea, a man who was sitting at the counter called out to us with another question that surprised me. “Hey, do you ladies want to try some caviar?”
I didn’t hesitate this time. “I won’t say no to caviar. Thank you!”
I walked over to the man. He proceeded to open a small ice chest by his feet and pulled out a jar of salmon roe, which he generously slathered onto a cracker with cream cheese. I asked if he was selling it. Nope. Then he informed me it had come straight from Alaska that day. “You can’t buy this stuff here. It all goes to Japan where they pay $300 an ounce.”
A generous man, handing out caviar to strangers in a tea shop. This was a fun surprise—and the caviar was delicious.
My realtor mentioned a local indie bookshop (Ye Olde Bookshoppe) where I might like to offer my books for sale after she found out I was a writer. She had some art pieces there, herself. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try, so I sent off an email to the owner. By the end of the day, my books were on the shelves of this store. The owner is a warm, friendly, supporter of local artists and authors, and she was a delight to meet. I didn’t expect such a quick offer. It was a good thing I had a stack of books on hand!
A few weeks ago, I don’t think I could have put into words the reasons why we chose to return to small-town living after so many years of being away. My husband and I both just knew we wanted a change. I was craving connection. I didn’t know how this might look, but the three stories I shared above illustrate some unexpected ways I’ve been connecting with people in my community. I like being surprised and delighted. No expectations, just gratitude. God knows the desires of my heart better than I do, and he seems to enjoy making those things happen. All I need to do is be open to those gifts.
One more thing: my online shop is now re-stocked. You can order a signed copy of any of my books directly from me.
