Small towns are in my blood, and over the years I’ve lived in a few. From farming communities to river towns, I keep getting called back to my roots.

I’ve been feeling a little sentimental these days, and I’ve been going through boxes of randomness in my office, which is a catchall for all the “officey things” I have accumulated over the years.

My late grandmother, on my dad’s side, grew up in a small town named after her family. Harris, MO.

Population 500 back in the day. Today, there are probably less than 50 people that live there due to businesses closing down and people moving away.

In her self-proclaimed “memoir” titled To My Children and Grandchildren, my grandma Libby shares memories growing up with 4 siblings, with her being the baby of the group.

“Life in a ‘small town’ is the greatest thing the world – where everyone is interested in you, cares about you, loves you, accepts you as you are – where the whole town works as a unit – ‘time’ means nothing – no one is ‘too busy’ to help you – they appreciate the beauty of nature in all of it’s glory, and the simple things in life.

A child raised in a ‘little town’ has the greatest blessing they could ever dream of having – they learn the ‘basics’ of so many things. I’m proud to be from a ‘small town.’!” – Libby

Sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong era. I long for simplicity in life, like many, but often feel like I can’t find it these days with the way the world works.

About a year ago, I made a decision to move back to small town. I’m in the process of that move, but as always, the Lord’s plans come as a priority over mine.

What pulls you back to your roots?

Aunt Bubba