Community is a word that means a lot of things to me. Love thy neighbor as thyself. That is at the heart of community in my mind. And despite all of the positive connotations, memories, and emotions I have with that word, I also feel a bit sad. I think America lacks a sense of community. We’re so involved in our individual lives that we’re oblivious to what’s going on in the lives of others in our communities. In my last post, you saw a picture of a community garden . The garden is used to feed seniors in the neighborhood. I see things like that and I have hope. But then I see death and sorrow and despair and I think to myself…it shouldn’t take tragedies to draw us together. What if our sense of community was stronger?
So I went on a walk. In search of community.
And I found it.
If you look hard enough, you will find it too. Sometimes, in the most unsuspecting places.
On a street corner. In a little red house, filled with books.