I live in Rexburg, Idaho. For those of you who don't know anything about Rexburg, you are not alone...considering how puny it is. Let me give you the overview. Rexburg is in southern Idaho, it is surrounded by mountains, but is rather bare (meaning not too many of my precious pine trees). There aren't any real lakes nearby, and it is built right next to a volcano...which kind of creeps me out when I think about it.
It is a tiny tiny town, you can basically walk anywhere that you need to go. Wal Mart is the place to be here...because that is as good as it gets. There are a couple of movie theaters, and they do not play rated R movies. On Sundays EVERYTHING is closed, and most places aren't even open until 11 on regular nights. Rexburg is the home to BYU-Idaho, formerly known as Ricks College, and when school is not in session it is practically a ghost town.When you have lived here as long as I have OR are married to someone who has lived here almost his whole life, then you can never make a quick trip to the store because you will always run into someone you know...and most people here like to talk...for a long time.
But what most people who know Rexburg think of, when they think of Rexburg, is how frigid cold it is. As gross as this sounds, if you walk outside in the winter and breathe, you will experience the sensation of having frozen nose hairs. The snow here is known to stay on the ground until May, because once it is here it stays. It is also very windy in good old Rexburg. I have literally seen people get blown over by unexpected gusts. Oh yeah, and did you know that air can freeze? Well, it can. It is very beautiful when the air sparkles...until the wind blows it right at you and then it stings like crazy.
So why on EARTH is this post title talking about winter warmth of all things?
I am not talking about warming up a rice-pack to snuggle, putting on fuzzy socks, and drinking hot chocolate while hiding under an electirc blanket (my go to warmth ritual.) I am talking about a different kind of warmth. The kind that makes you feel all tingly, the kind that always makes you smile, the kind that can only make you feel good. Because that warmth is the kind that sticks in your heart and begs to be shared with others. You would be surprised at how big the hearts of the people are in this little town.
I am not talking about warming up a rice-pack to snuggle, putting on fuzzy socks, and drinking hot chocolate while hiding under an electirc blanket (my go to warmth ritual.) I am talking about a different kind of warmth. The kind that makes you feel all tingly, the kind that always makes you smile, the kind that can only make you feel good. Because that warmth is the kind that sticks in your heart and begs to be shared with others. You would be surprised at how big the hearts of the people are in this little town.
Kirby and I sometimes find ourselves braving the cold and walking to campus. Today on my walk back home, as I stepped over the mountain of snow (and I mean mountain) between the side walk and the road I couldn't stop thinking about how much it would have sucked if I had had to trudge through snow that was up past my calves all the way home, I couldn't have been more grateful to have a clear sidewalk to follow the rest of the way. And that got me thinking about the man who lives just a couple of houses down from us. I don't even know his name, but I have seen him countless times always in the same state. Bundled up from head to toe, pushing his little snow blower up and down the sidewalks, and the many other men that take on the same duty. I doubt this man ever finds himself walking the sidewalks. But that's the point. He doesn't do it for himself, he does it for the countless students and residents he sees barreling their way through the snow without a second thought.
Then I thought about another man, with the same selfless outlook. A couple of weeks ago Kirby and I were outside forever trying to get rid of the snow that had accumulated on the driveway, when a rumbling from down the street made us stop. We watched as a man on a riding snow blower made his way in and out of our neighbors' driveways, completely clearing the snow away while they were out. As he came to our house, he simply smiled and gave a little wave for us to step onto the yard. He then continued to clear our driveway, and left with nothing but a little nod, and turned to the next house.
Then, just a few nights ago, I had hurriedly jammed a $20 bill into my pocket as I ran out the door to run an errand. Arriving at my destination I went about my business, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a lady holding my $20 bill in her hand. She had seen it fall out of my pocket and had followed me inside to make sure I got it back.
The people here make Rexburg a gem in my eyes. You can walk the streets, or the aisles of a store and be greeted with gracious smiles and hellos. On a cold, wet day you can bet you will have a stranger offer to drive you the rest of the way (totally creepy, but with good intentions). If your car breaks down you are guaranteed to have multiple people stop to help. If you need food, and are too sick to make dinner, somehow someone will always know and show up at your doorstep with a fully prepared meal. If you need an egg to finish your cookies, you can put on your hat and boots and run down the street, knock on any door, and find someone more than willing to give one up.
I mean, don't get me wrong, obviously we have your normal grumps...but they are the minority here.
And while I can sometimes join in with those who like to complain about this little town, I feel truly blessed to live in this special place, and even more blessed to have married into a family that totally embodies that spirit of selflessness.
So yes, my rice-pack, fuzzy socks, hot cocoa, and electric blanket do wonders to keep me warm. But it is the attitude of service and charity that thrives here that truly makes the winter a little less dreary.
The people here make Rexburg a gem in my eyes. You can walk the streets, or the aisles of a store and be greeted with gracious smiles and hellos. On a cold, wet day you can bet you will have a stranger offer to drive you the rest of the way (totally creepy, but with good intentions). If your car breaks down you are guaranteed to have multiple people stop to help. If you need food, and are too sick to make dinner, somehow someone will always know and show up at your doorstep with a fully prepared meal. If you need an egg to finish your cookies, you can put on your hat and boots and run down the street, knock on any door, and find someone more than willing to give one up.
I mean, don't get me wrong, obviously we have your normal grumps...but they are the minority here.
And while I can sometimes join in with those who like to complain about this little town, I feel truly blessed to live in this special place, and even more blessed to have married into a family that totally embodies that spirit of selflessness.
So yes, my rice-pack, fuzzy socks, hot cocoa, and electric blanket do wonders to keep me warm. But it is the attitude of service and charity that thrives here that truly makes the winter a little less dreary.
Thank you Rexburgians for your kind examples!
