Until about 6th grade, I grew up in Small-town USA. Everyone knew everyone, and we knew all the juicy tidbits about everyone whether we wanted to or not.
We knew who our neighbors were and what they had for dinner. We knew who made the best fried chicken in town and who didn’t cook a lick.
We knew who had the most and who complained the least.
If Aunt Bertha didn’t feel up to marketing because of the bunion on her big toe, our little, local market would come to her. They were happy to deliver.
Church socials were full-scale events especially during the holiday season. The ones with the most food drew the biggest crowds and saved the most souls. It was a well-known fact…er…rumor.
When mommas had babies, they didn’t have to worry about meals for the next week. (And maybe not for a month if the stork delivered twins.) Other women in the community would tag-team their efforts and bless the family with casseroles, stews, pies, and cakes and whatever else that might be needed.
To welcome new folks in our midst, we’d often have a “pounding.” That is, we’d shower them with a pound of this or a pound of that. Large boxes would often be packed with cans of coffee, bags of sugar, tins of teas, and containers of staples. We loved getting to know our new friends and neighbors.
We took the time to look past the busyness of life. We stopped and chatted with those on the street. We waved at passing cars, and we rarely met a stranger.
We realized our roots and how deeply they were planted.
I loved those childhood years in our tiny, close-knit town. Those times taught me the importance of hearth and home. They forever stitched the seam of resiliency about the fabric of my soul.
I learned that while change is inevitable and good in so many ways, there are just some basics that are non-negotiable. Fads and trends will come and go, but it’s those intrinsic core values that we grow up with, long for, and adhere to that will endure.
We can’t (and shouldn’t) poke our heads in the sand to hide from cultural shifts and societal influences. We can, however, approach those influences confidently when we’re armed with the knowledge of what we know to be true: hearth and home are here to stay.
How we choose to define them is entirely up to us.
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What is your personal definition of hearth and home?
Photo Credit: Rosemary Ratcliff/FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Comments 10
When I hear hearth and home, I think of cozy, welcoming, a happy place full of life. I also think winter, cocoa and fires. LOL
I grew up in a town where everyone knew each other. My teachers were friends who had grown up with my father. Which stunk, because I rarely got away with much…that’s how I learned to be sneaky! 🙂
Author
Jess…you, sneaky? Surely not! (I was a “PK” so you can imagine how much I got away with.)
I adore your definition of hearth and home. We think alike.
When I think of the term hearth and home, I think of the people closest to me, those who share my life on a day-to-day basis. While I treasure my online friends and love interacting with all of you, there’s something special about family and face-to-face friends who enrich my life up close and personal. If only we didn’t live so far apart, Cynthia, I think we’d be great friends and would enjoy some wonderful chats over lunch like I do with my local gal pals.
Author
Keli, can’t you just twitch your nose like Samantha and pop on over? (I imagine our “wonderful chats” would turn into day-long visits! Envision it: Dish. Shop. Eat (at Taco Bell, of course). Exercise. Starbucks. Bookstore. Repeat. Have I missed anything?)
Great analogy of “hearth and home.”
You pretty much described the town I grew up in. We were a close knit, railroad town that revolved around high school sports – many alumni still attend the homecoming game every year, and old hometown friends come from all over to attend the big fair/festival in August. It’s like a reunion!
The town I live in now is quite different. Nobody really knows one another – even in sports and school events. The town is much larger. The school system is big. It just doesn’t have that home and hearth feel to it.
Author
Loree, the ironic thing? I now live in an area that’s very similar to the beloved town I remember from my childhood. Guess it’s in my blood!
I imagine you miss your hometown. It can be difficult living in bigger areas because life in general seems to move a much faster pace with less time to appreciate the simpler things.
First of all, I love that picture! So pretty.
We’ve been blessed with a church community that showers us with food (and lots more!) during tough times. No matter how the landscape of the culture changes, I think a church that “gets it” will always feel like hearth and home. 🙂
Author
Sarah, I agree! Churches that give back to the community definitely add to the “hearth and home” mindset–the one I associate with the Great Commission.
Hearth and home remind me of hospitality, and anyone is welcome, whether they called ahead or not. We took a “Sunday drive” detour on a trip home from our daughter’s. Some folks still wave from the porch or yard–that did my heart good!
Author
Patti, I guess that’s why I’m a “Waltons” fan. Loved how Earl Hamner, Jr. portrayed life then.