To Be Known For

Growing up in a town with a population less than the number of students in my middle school building means that everyone knew everyone, for better or for worse. Most folks were just average Joes and Josies, slogging along, doing what needed to be done each day. Almost everyone could be called upon in a time of need, day or night, and help would be rendered with no thought given to personal discomfort or inconvenience. And some folks gained a reputation for a skill or deed of noteworthiness. I am not talking about grandiose, heroic acts such as saving someone from a burning car or rescuing a fisherman who fell through the ice while winter fishing. My memories are of those who excelled at something that would never make it to the nightly news.

Here are a few who come to mind. (Names changed as per my policy.)

Martha. She was a widow who struggled with health issues that made it increasingly difficult for her to get out and about. But, somehow she acquired a laminating machine, a novelty most households certainly did not have at their disposal. Her specialty was laminating homemade bookmarks with inspirational poems written upon them. My mother-in-law gave me one of Martha's bookmarks as a gift many years ago. It is the least flashy bookmark I own but it is one I will not be parting with any time soon. It has a beautiful poem on it entitled, Sparrows. I use it as a place keeper in my Bible and cherish the love Martha put into this lowly piece of paper.

Jim. My brother-in-law was a man of very, very few words. I don't think I heard him speak until many months after my husband and I started dating. I came from a family who barely took a breath while constantly babbling so I found Jim's taciturn ways a bit puzzling. Jim was obviously not known for his gift of gab but he was known far and wide for his hunting and fishing skills. If anyone in the region wanted to know the best way to bag a deer or catch a prize walleye, Jim was the guy to see. He was able to stalk, kill and dress an elk in rugged terrain and successfully drag it out by himself. (I fuss if my grocery bags are too heavy.) After he passed away from cancer, far too soon, sportsmen came from far and wide for the auction of his hunting and fishing equipment. His passion spoke loud and clear to others.

Bernard. He was the man in the know. He and his wife did not have children so his time could be spent in other pursuits. Bernard had a scanner radio and never missed a crackly squawk, day or night. In a time before internet and reliable TVs, Bernard's ability to share the latest happenings gleaned from his radio or from keeping his finger on the pulse of a small town was often a valuable resource. What many folks did not know about him was his unsung, heroic military service during WWII. He shared that information with a select few in his inner circle. Bernard also had a gift for letter writing. He faithfully wrote letters to my uncle after my uncle moved into a veteran's retirement facility many miles away from our hometown. Bernard made sure his friends always stayed connected to their hometown, whether near or far.

Functioning communities are comprised of members allowing their jigsaw puzzle pieces to be used in the big picture. I am grateful for being able to experience many such communities, from work to neighborhoods to small towns. I am afraid my puzzle piece has something to do with incessant chattering. Just snap me next to the piece with a good listener and all should be well.