Image Credit: Scott B., Chester, CT
We stood at the top of the hill near the dividing line between our town and the rest of the country. The beauty overtook me as I began to look at this little town that I called my home. Staring at the town, I began to a stroll down memory lane.

I first noticed the church bell that rings every Sunday at nine o'clock standing tall in the middle of the square. The same bell that I would see move back and fourth as the noise pounded in my ears as I stumbled into mass almost every week a few minutes late. I would cross my hands behind my back as I walked down the isles until I reached my mother. I thought if I put my hands behind my back she wouldn't notice the brown mud spot on my white Sunday dress. My mom would be furious with me after church, but I would laugh it off. Those Sunday morning were spent wisely by catching frogs and trying to jump over different creeks with my dress on. I made it over almost everytime with only small blotches of dirt rubbed on the side. It was quite an accomplishment in my childhood.

Surrounding the bell I could see the town square all light up with lights around the dark stores and shops that were closed for the night because of the July festival that was taking place. Even though Judy was not smiling in the window like she did each morning as I walked to school, or my friend Frank wasn't standing outside his shop waving me down with my jelly donut, I could still imagine the faces of all the people that worked in the square. It had always been just another day to see them, but as I thought about leaving to go to school, I began to miss them already.

As I kept gazing, I could see my house on the corner of Cauble and Chester with the white patio that my father and I painted when I was a girl. The white had chipped since then, leaving it to look like a real country farmhouse. I liked it that way. As I saw the flowerpots filled with beautiful flowers, and my dog sitting in the window looking at the outside world, I went back to that day as if it were yesterday. I could see my dad and I running around with our ripped overalls on, making a mess of white paint everywhere. The neighbors would see a trail of multiple white footprints on their green grass, but would only laugh when they saw the joy in my face.

Leaning with my back against the fence, I tilted my head up and spread my arms along the fence. The wind brushed my hair back causing it to run free under the moonlight sky. I closed my eyes remembering the memories I had made from this nice ol' little town. Everything seemed to be calm and still. The sweet smell of mowed grass and fresh air filled my nostrils. I began to smile at such a perfect place and a perfect hometown. I began to hear the music playing from the festival and all 200 people in my town gathered in the same area singing to our favorite country tunes. I could picture all of them talking and laughing over the best memories they've had living in this crazy small town, as I had been doing just a few minutes ago. I opened my eyes and a sense of appreciation filled my mind. In that instant, this town meant more to me than it ever had in my whole life.

As I was thinking about this crazy town, I realized it wouldn't be the same without the people that I got to spend it with. I opened my eyes, and turned my head to find my best friend, Hunter smirking at me. He knew what I was thinking about because he loved this town as much as I did. He wrapped me in his arms we both began to look at the view of our hometown together. I wouldn't have wanted to be doing anything else that night besides reminiscing about the good times in the good town with my very own country boy. We sat in his 1998 pickup truck and looked at the stars until the they had disappeared into the morning.

As I looked at the town in the morning I saw all the houses that were empty just last night filled up again. I saw people like Judy greeting her neighbors as they walked into the store. I saw Frank kindly offering kids free donuts just because he was a nice guy. Looking back at the night and my appreciation for my hometown, I realized it's not only the town that I love, but the people as well. These people surrounding me have made an impact on my life in ways that I could not put into words. They have taught me kindness, the importance of giving, how to love, and so much more. The people around me were no longer my friends and neighbors, but my family that I have grown to love forever. I will never let go to the people I have come to know or the place that I still call my home. As I start my journey in a new place with new people, I have learned to never forget the ones that made me who I am today.