As I sit down to write on this chilly Sunday evening, I feel like I’m living out a Hallmark movie. Really, the only missing element is finding the love of my life in my new hometown. Who knows? Maybe that is in next week’s script.
My Thanksgiving weekend started with serving the community meal at the local cafe. The owners generously donate the meal every year as kind of a gift to the town. And it’s not just for those in need. People from all walks of life attend, and reservations are required because it fills up. There’s an option to donate to the town’s food bank at the event, and many came prepared with checks and cash to drop in the box.
I had met one of the owners a month or so ago, and she invited me to attend either by volunteering or just coming to dine. Of course, the volunteering option was more attractive to me. Not only would I have an opportunity to meet community members, but I’d still get to eat afterward.
I was assigned to the soup and dessert crew. We quickly bonded and took our roles of ladling, plate prepping, and serving. Once all of the soup was delivered, we headed to the dessert station. This was even more fun because the pie case was located in the center of the cafe where I could chat with people seated at the counter. And who isn’t happy when they’re eating pie? I also provided some entertainment as I got accustomed to the professional whip cream dispenser. Let’s say it was a little more powerful than the grocery store cans. Fortunately, I had my commemorative apron to save my outfit from certain disaster.
After three seatings of more than 200 people, we volunteers went to the kitchen to serve our own plates. I quickly understood why this was a “reservations only” event. It was probably the best turkey dinner I had ever eaten, and I would really like to get my hands on their sweet potato recipe!
Less than three hours later, I joined my neighbors to further stuff myself. It was a quiet gathering, just four of us, which was perfect after the busy day. My dear neighbor thoughtfully made a gluten-free pumpkin pie for me. Delightful!
On Friday and Saturday, I worked in my friend’s shop. Most of Friday was spent preparing for Shop Small Saturday. We worked like elves, stocking the shelves and packing up bulk candy. Shop Small was sponsored by the chamber, which had created a Bingo card to get people around to the different stores. We offered chili, chips, and cookies to the customers along with wine and coffee. As people entered the store, we had them draw a ticket for an additional discount. A local author came and planted herself on the sofa to sell her cozy mystery books, including her latest which was Christmas-themed and set in a fictionalized version of our town. It all certainly made for a festive atmosphere.
After my shift on Saturday, I headed to the main street in town to take in the decorations and lights. It was fun to recollect the big decorating party from a week earlier and see my contributions. The town is rather enchanting, all lit up like that. I thought about the fudge that I had sampled in the kitchen store last Saturday and decided that I needed to reward myself. Needless to say, I don’t think I ever need to make my own fudge again. Theirs is absolutely perfect! This could become a bad habit.
The Christmas magic continued after church this morning. I went down to the hall for coffee and donuts and saw a woman at a table with boxes of ornaments. I introduced myself and asked about her plan. Her mission was to get everyone in the hall to put at least one ornament on the tree. It was brilliant. My friend and I jumped in to help by bringing ornaments around to the tables. It was such a simple but effective way to get people involved and build community.
On my way home, I stopped to grab a salad at a restaurant and took a moment to check out the Christmas trees for sale outside. There must have been at least a dozen varieties, some I had never even seen in my native Washington. A man started telling me the story of the older gentleman who is the longtime owner the nursery. He was so enthusiastic that I was sure he was in charge of the tree sales. A few minutes later, when I went inside to buy my salad, he came in to pay for his tree. He was just a happy customer, not the tree salesman.
My last stop before heading home was the grocery store. After grabbing some veggies, I ran into an acquaintance. We chatted right between the produce department and the bakery for more than half an hour. By the time we parted, I felt like we had advanced from acquaintances to friends.
I can’t wait to see where the small-town Christmas magic takes me in the month ahead. Already, I’ve been invited to more parties and events than ever before. And I have to decide just which one of those trees to bring home for my first Montana Christmas.