Why I (sometimes) love my neighborhood.

I've lived here, in the same house, for 2o years now. It's the longest I've lived anywhere. I'm really a small town girl at heart, totally unprepared for some of the things I've seen and experienced here. Each time I visit my hometown, a place I left 30 years ago, I'm overcome with the urge to return to a place where most everybody knows (even after 30 years) who I am. While I also appreciate a certain amount of anonymity (like the mornings when I desperately run to the store, without make-up or a shower, in search of coffee!), from time to time the feeling of belonging hits me here in my urban neighborhood. Today is a prime example. I walked to the library (please patronize the library, I'm so afraid that it will be snatched from us due to under use/budget cuts). It was a quick trip to drop of one book and pick up one that was on hold for me. As I was checking out, the door opened and I heard someone come in and say, "Hello." I turned and returned the greeting, noting that it was my mailman. He placed some mail and a package on the desk next to me. He pushed the package toward me and said, "This is for you." I was stunned! Apparently he'd seen me out and was concerned that I wouldn't be home when he tried to deliver the package, causing me to have to take a trip to the post office tomorrow. Very nice! He's pleasant demeanor and helpfulness almost make up for the grumpy old white guys who work behind the counter at the PO!