Shilo has been my home for over a quarter of a century and I have witnessed three-fourths of its families move into our village. Therefore when my earring fell out of my ear as I was on the way up the hill to my house, I felt no compunction to bend down on my hands and knees and search the sidewalk for it. I had knelt there for less than a minute when, to my horror, I saw one of the young men in Shilo quickly crossing the street to assist me. From his viewpoint it must have looked as if I had fallen over. Assuring him I was fine just searching for my earring he joined me in my search. Not even a half a minute passed and a somewhat older male, although one far younger than me, came to help. Again I explained that I was okay, just searching for my missing piece of jewelry. And then a third man, one who I did not know even by sight, joined their ranks. All three had eyesight much better than mine but no one seemed to be able to spot my trinket.
“Was it very expensive?” one of them asked sympathetically.
Self-consciously I shook my head. By dollars and cents it was not costly but emotionally… my daughter-in-law had bought the set for me.
“Maybe it’s caught in your head scarf,” another one of them suggested.
“I’ll probably find it when I get home,” I agreed.
At the same time a car pulled to the side of the road and the driver, another male, offered assistance. By this time I was thoroughly embarrassed and yet I was pleased, too. Repeating that I hoped to find the earring caught in my clothing I thanked them for their help and continued on my way up the hill.
Once home I was disappointed that I did not find the earring. However I found something else, far more valuable, another reason to be thankful that I live in a place full of so many caring people.