First Call

The Wheel turns, and Time passes. Yule is done, Imbolc comes. Soon Valentine’s Day will be upon us. I never quite understood the need for ONE specific day devoted to expressing your Love for those you cherish. If you truly cherish them, shouldn’t this be an on-going effort? I had thought to wax romantic on Loves passed and past, but if you don’t know how to tell the one you Love, more importantly, “The One Who Puts Up With You” how precious they are, well you’re going to need a LOT MORE help than I can convey on a single page. Instead, I offer this tale of an entire village that knew how to show just that.

Years ago, in a quaint little village nestled between a tropic lagoon and the deep, blue Sea, in a time before the great beasts known as “Condominiums” came to blot out the Sun, there lived a fine couple at a place called “Second Street South.” Both were white haired, though they held a glow of youthfulness that defied their years. The wife was elegant and poised, possessed of both chiseled features and a regal bearing that surpassed any woman of noble birth. The husband was a bit rough around the edges, but had been in the village long before paved streets and was loved by all. He was tall and genial, I suppose handsome in his own way, but, most importantly, he loved his wife more than life itself.

One evening, as twilight began to paint the sky, the couple went for a walk along the beach near their home. They held hands and talked of the things lovers have talked about on such walks since before Time had a name. They traveled near a half mile, lost in the sounds of the Sea, the birds, and each other’s words. Occasionally, they would exchange greetings with other couples out on similar strolls, but for the most part the world fell away. That’s how Love works.

Upon returning home the wife noticed that the stone had fallen out of her wedding band. Immediately, the two went back to retrace their steps, but with night now fallen, it quickly became apparent that finding a diamond in a half mile stretch of sand would be no easy task. True, life had been good to them both, and the diamond in question was large enough to choke a good sized cat, but still... A HALF MILE OF SAND?

They returned home and grabbed flashlights, and, pausing only to phone a few friends and explain their need, rushed back to resume their search. They had not gotten far when the first friends began to arrive. In the moments, indeed, the hours that followed help continued to arrive, each friend having called others before they came to join the search. Hundreds came! All brought lights, many brought shovels, some brought the screens out of the windows of their homes.

No one came for a reward. No one came out of greed. They all came because a neighbor needed them. They came because friends that had always, without thinking, epitomized “Loving Couple” had lost the stone that was a symbol of that Love. The night and the search wore on through alternating waves of panic, despair, and stubborn refusal to admit defeat, until finally the diamond was found. It was 3:00 AM !

The couple went home. The friends went home. The friends of friends, who didn’t even really know the couple, but had come anyway just because a neighbor needed help, went home. All returned to normal in the quaint little village between the tropic lagoon and the deep, blue Sea, but the couple never forgot what they had learned that night. For years to come they would tell and retell the story of a town that came out in the night with lights and shovels and screens to help their neighbors. It was their favorite story of the town they Loved. The town that had proven its Love for them.

I first heard this tale from the couple, themselves, in the summer of ‘75, shortly after we moved to that same little village. The roads were all paved, the first of the Condominiums had come, with many more soon to follow, but I loved that story. I remember it each year as Valentines approaches, and each time I remember as well the looks of adoration that passed between them during its telling. Regrettably, the couple have both gone ahead, but the story, and the village remain. Although it didn’t occur anytime near Valentine’s Day, this always felt like a “Valentine’s” sort of tale to me, not only for the Love of the couple, but also for the Love of the neighbors, indeed, most of the town, who had come at that First Call.

For those of you who are new to our town, take heart. We may seem to be “all about Last Call”, but we are also quick to heed that First Call. On the surface, we may well have evolved into little more than a concrete and asphalt shadow of that quaint little village, but many of us will always hold that image in our hearts as the essence of this, Our Town. We are not just the people next door or the strangers down the block. We are your neighbors, and should you have need, we will come. That’s just how we are.

Welcome to the Neighborhood, and Happy Valentine’s.

And for Jacquie, “Te Amo!”