Never Lost, Always Found

Nothing seems to drive home the fact that we live in a small town like being at the school. My word, we're small town. And nobody leaves it. Ever. This is neither good nor bad, it's just the way it is. You know everyone, everyone knows you, and you can't get away with anything. For better or worse.

My fourth grade teacher was the high schoolers' science teacher. He retired last year. My sister's 3rd grade teacher was Luke's kindergarten teacher. My brother's best friend's mom is a teacher and talked through countless classes with my kids about the boys' antics back in the day. (My kids barely know my brother, but they care immensely about getting out of class.)

My kids are attending school with children of those I went to school with. I see these kids walking the halls and instantly know to whom they belong. It's that kind of obvious. We're small town here, and everyone knows everyone else.

I think, sometimes, that nobody knows me, and I can get lost in a new place. I feel as though I'm anonymous, and it's alright with me. And then mid-afternoon while I'm at the school subbing, and not even in the classroom I'm supposed to be in, but in a guided reading room with a handful of kids who need reading help, the classroom phone rang. For me. It was the school nurse, and Micah needed my attention. Nothing serious, and he's just fine (and not contagious), but sheesh. We're small town here, and everyone knows everyone else. I'll never be anonymous here, will I?