|Morning at Peterson Park|
In a large city, would we only rub elbows with other anonymous inhabitants and not be affected by their troubles and deaths? Wouldn’t the circle of acquaintance be about the same? There would be more people one did not know, but not everyone would be a stranger, surely. I remember when my father began to complain of the number of funerals he had to attend, and my mother, taking a brighter look, told him that was because they had lived there so long. They had moved from South Dakota to a county seat in northern Illinois in 1951, so of course in 50 years time they had made many friends. What she left out was that they and their friends had all aged 50 years in that same time period! Well, this happens anywhere, town or country, city or village, but I’ll admit that my friend in her sadness had a valid point to make: losing someone in a small village is a proportionately greater loss, due to the size of the population. And wherever you live, no one is a replacement for anyone else, but life goes on, so to whom will the torches pass?
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|Volunteers created and maintain the gorgeous library garden|