Barn Dance Blues

Quiet Barn

September came and went without our annual barn dance and potluck. This year, no Christmas lights twinkled in the hayloft. No fiddle music filled the rafters. No couples held hands in the moonlight. No kids chased each other over fences. Only barn cats, darting through shadow, disturbed straw and dust on the dance floor. Ivan and I mourned what would have been our 9th annual barn dance. People matter; we have but one life to cherish friends and neighbors.

Then this incredible thing happened. Chuck, from a few trailers down, invited us to his annual Salmon BBQ and potluck. We gladly joined the rest of the park at his RV, eating good food, laughing, and watching our kids chase each other around on bikes. With tears in his eyes, Chuck thanked everyone for coming to his 9th annual Salmon BBQ. I was stunned.

The turned table was not lost on me. Community lost, community gained, God has amazing ways to ease our grieving.

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