THE VILLAGE (part 2…the community)

Every successful individual knows that his or her achievement depends on a community of persons working together.

~Paul Ryan~

 

My son was giving a talk the other day, and although I was not able to be there in person, he could share it by pod-cast (boy I sure do love technology...can barely operate it but it do love it!).  Now I am paraphrasing, but his talk focused on the concepts of what it is to have a community, to take care of it, and the people that live there. 

It got me thinking.  In part 1 of my “Village blog series", I wrote about the value of having a village that raises a child.  To continue along the lines of that theory, I believe that the community village can play such an important role in providing love and safety for individuals of all ages.

I live in a city.  But within those city walls lies various small “villages”.  Now, I know that I am biased but I personally think that I live in the best village of all.  It spans all of four blocks and is an eclectic variety of shops and unique people.  There is pretty well every amenity that you can imagine and you can quite self-sufficiently never leave. 

The people of our village come from every social economic background, are married, single, divorced, young, old…the list goes on.  But I think that what makes us really special, is that we take care of each other. 

Now, there are various coffee shops and although we visit them ALL from time to time; we usually have our habitual environments. 

The thing about habits though, although we not be aware of it, other people pick up on them! Take the following example.

I may be going out on a limb; but, many of us that spend a lot of time in coffee shops (yup I am guilty J ) are single.  But that is why it is so important for us.  When you are single you often live alone.  I personally do have a full-size penguin and full-size frog (stuffies of course J ).  Although good listeners, they are a bit weak in the “talking” department. 

But anywhere between 5 am and 11 pm I can head the four blocks from home to what I fondly refer to as, “MY Village”. I would be hard pressed not to find some to talk to. 

Whether it be the barista that knows exactly what kind of coffee I want, or the customer that asks when those sweet grandchildren are coming over next, or the person who asks how my dissertation is coming along even though they know it’s been dragging for years…lol J, I know that people know me.

However, I think I really knew that I belonged only a few months back.  As I said, I am a regular at the coffee shops (morning, night, weekends…lol).  My daughter-in-law keeps teasing me that just because I keep getting stars toward something free doesn’t mean I am not spending money J. 

 

As luck would have it, a few months back, I threw my back/hip out and was housebound for over a week.  I will admit I did have a few bouts of “feeling sorry for myself”.  I was in excruciating pain and couldn’t move and had to basically crawl to the kitchen to fill up my water bottle (only when absolutely necessary and definitely to coincide with a bathroom break).  There is pretty well no worse pity party 

than when you are sick and alone.  You really start to wonder why you didn’t just finally settle down with that “kinda crazy, but sorta nice, out of town busker” you met last winter.

But suddenly on about day 5 my phone rang.  I didn’t recognize the number and I debated whether to answer (I had no energy for some stranger telling me I had won a “free cruise" and if it was a creditor, I would have probably just told them I died J ).  

So with trepidation and a deep breath, I pressed the button and said softly, “hello”.  An unfamiliar voice at the other end uttered my name, “Janet?” as if they didn’t know for sure it was me either.  I tentatively said, “yes” (I was ready to hang up quickly if needed).  “It’s Angie”.  My brows furrowed.  Who was Angie? I guess she heard the hesitation in my voice because she went on to explain.  “You know, Angie from Starbucks”.  Ah, it all fell into place.  That Angie.  Like me, Angie was one of the regulars.  There are so many of us regulars that often names aren’t exchanged, although you might learn them over time (or not).  We were more likely to know how someone drank their coffee than their name.  We didn’t usually socialize much outside the coffee shop, but if we ran into each other somewhere else in the village, we would certainly stop and have a “wee chin wag” as my Scottish auntie would say.  

But to the point.  Angie wanted to know if I was ok.  She said that some of the regulars were talking and someone mentioned that they hadn’t seen me in a while.  They asked each other, “Did anyone know if I had gone away?”  As the questions swirled they also realized that no one actually had my phone number.  However, in today’s world of social media, they pulled out their phones and within a few minutes someone had googled/facebooked/twittered and “wha la” there was my phone number.  Angie was designated to phone.

I was stunned, touched, and I could feel the tear drops gather a little at the corner of my eyes.  As I told her my story she offered “any time or anything I needed to just let her know”. I could hear others echo her words in the background. 

WOW.  We chatted a moment longer and she left her number. 

As I pondered what had just transpired, I realized that this is why I love my village.  My community. 

We really do care for each other.  We look out for each other, sometimes whether we know it or not.  We are welcoming. We take the time to talk to each other.  We support each other. Sometimes, we are the ear or shoulder that someone needs, and sometimes we are just part of the circle.

As my son had spoken of, and echoed in the words of Paul Ryan; a community is a place where we all fit together.  To be the best community, is to open a part for each person to contribute. We all need to belong.  We need to feel someone would miss us.  I had learned this lesson many years ago but somewhere along the way I had forgotten. My lesson… 

 

“But for a group of people, a coffee shop

 

and a woman named Angie, I knew that I

 

belonged.”

 

Dedicated to the wonderful people who hang out and work in coffee shops in Cook Street Village

 

Coming Soon ~ Part 3 …the community and people continues