How Did They Ever Find Us?

A family homeless from the hurricanes has come to live in our area, about two miles down the road. We haven't met them yet, and we might not meet them at all, but that's not remarkable.

They are living in a suburb of a suburb of a -- yeah -- suburb. A town that if you count the dogs chickens and cows probably comes to a hundred. They are living in a building that was once a branch bank. No surprise the bank didn't make it. There is a "general store" which opened in 1906 and may close any day, a farm implements place, very extensive junk yard (and several unofficial ones), an elementary school and a church.

Everyone in the several churches around here is trying to contribute something so these people can be here safe for a while. Our church is planning "an old-fashioned pounding" for these people Sunday. It's not as dangerous as it sounds. A pound of flour, a pound of sugar, a pound of peanut butter -- you get the picture. We're hoping everyone doesn't bring the same thing.

I don't have anything against people who throw money at a problem; I just like to give something I know can be used with only reasonable fuss. Maybe something in the cupboard that I have more that in need.