“All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey, or a stranger comes to town.” ~ Leo Tolstoy
All great stories take place or start in a small town.
Once I get small-town vibes from a movie or book, I get sucked in immediately.
The town bells and tower torches these bite-sized towns have a penchant for, signal for tea, snacks, warmth, and cosiness.
Within minutes I know this small town is about to reveal itself to be a close-knit community, steeped in tradition, or hiding a dark secret.
On the other hand, I know the new character(s) in town is about to be exposed for who they truly are.
An unsuspecting hypocrite.
Of course, you are!
Why?
Because no one goes to a small town to hide or start over, regardless of what the movies portray or what the characters believe. Such an act is more akin to big-city espionage, where one can blend in with the crowd, change their appearance, and go unnoticed amidst the chaos.
When you’re new to a small town, you tend to attract more attention, both online and offline. It’s strange but true. Small towns are like beacons of interest, especially when the big city loses its charm or gets a good drainage system, and there’s nothing to complain about.
The new person who arrives, despite their attempts to hide, escape, or start anew, ultimately desires to be acknowledged, recognized, and comprehended. They crave these things because their past experiences have shaped and overshadowed their identity. Nevertheless, behind the scenes destiny has been beckoning them long before the life-changing event which led them here.
You don’t choose small towns.
Small towns choose us.
They are not found with a campus. They are invisible on maps. They sound like myth.
Until you unpack.
Gertrude down the street brings you her “welcome to the neighbourhood cuisine”, she’s a curious lady who tends to invade your privacy a bit too much but is harmless. A friendly local teacher, doctor, or barista, who win your heart; an overbearing official who wants you to be more concerned and involved, and various social activities on Sunday, in the evenings, or in clubs.
Living in a small town means you’ll be embraced by the closeness and warmth or, in other instances, coldness and aloofness, of the community and develop a pleasant routine into serene living.
Once your guard is down, the community will politely request your consent to talk about your past, present, future, identity, and fears.
“My fears? What do they have to do with anything?” You ask.
Around this time you start to grow weary and suspicious.
You try to find out the small town’s secret. You search for a reason to leave, some excuse to convince yourself that it’s not a good place to stay.
Maybe you get it.
But one day, you wake up and realize that you want to stay and fight for your new home. It’s too late to leave now anyway, Gertrude is knocking with a basket full of cookies.
You turn on the news for the first time since you arrived.
The big city seems too big and overwhelming. It’s a screeching machine with dull architecture and an odd vocabulary. It’s a distant memory, a dream you woke up from. The small town has given you something you didn’t know you were looking for.
Now, you are a part of this town, and its secrets, traditions, and community have embraced you.