Always Room for Just One More...Lest We Forget

Photo Credit: qmnoni/Creative Commons

Having grown up in the Ozarks when the world was not yet so complicated, I’m often reminded of the gentler times–those magnificent days where there was always “room for just one more.”

Besides our ready availability to others, there are other things that I remember and miss:

Sundays were indeed a time of worship and rest.

Weekends weren’t ruled by a clock or defined by a planner. Saturdays and Sundays meant family and free time.

Doctors doctored. And they did it without HMOs, PPOs, or healthcare dictates that tied their hands.

We honored God, faith, family, and country. Most appreciated those freedoms.

The Gideons delivered New Testaments to our local school. And no child refused to take one.

Integrity, compassion, and morality weren’t scoffed at. They were sought-after.

Television (at least in our home) was a source of family entertainment. Not the adult-only-anything-goes fare we refuse to watch now.

We had “poundings.” If new folks moved into the area, it was customary for us to gift them with a pound of this or a pound of that.

We refused to be bored. We played hard and worked harder. And we did it without iPhones, laptops, or electronic conveniences/distractions. (Can you imagine?!)

Politics were serious business. Not a comedy club. (At least in public at that time.)

We didn’t dine much on fast food. “Fast food” was my mama’s fried chicken, mashed potatoes, garden green beans, and angel biscuits. There was a Dairy Queen not too far down the road from where we lived. Daddy took us there about once a month for a banana split. I shared it with my sister.

Sassing our elders was unheard of. But mouth-washing wasn’t.

Life in the Ozarks was a great place to raise a family. Despite the winds of change, it still is.

If you visit my neck of the woods today, you’ll find folks here to be some of the nicest people on earth. Though world events have touched us and time has marched on, our way of life still moves at a slower pace than other areas.

The culture and heritage of the Ozarks is unique.

We still pay “social calls.”

We like to love on you.

We wave at everyone.

And we always have room for just one more.

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Anything you miss about the gentler times?