MY HEROES, KEVIN COSTNER AND VILLAGE PEOPLE
I live in a pretty village, not chocolate box pretty, but pretty nonetheless. It has a church, village hall, village shop, recreation field and the best pub in the world, where everyone knows your name, and you know them. It has community. When we moved here from the city, where we knew a few friends from across town, but nobody in our street, we loved the community here. I naively thought community just happened, but, of course, it takes a lot of hard working heroes, or more often heroines. Take Maureen, for example, who recently passed away and left a huge hole here. She worked for decades on every committee, in every office. She coerced Claire, my wonderful wife onto many committees. Claire is currently hard at work organising a progressive supper to raise funds for the church. When some problem occurs she misses Maureen’s sympathetic ear and wise counsel. Then there’s Kay, the dynamo of the village hall committee. Amongst many events she has organised film nights, put on by a man with a screen and projector who tours villages like ours and shows the best films, once a month. I think it’s a passion as much a business. But as much as he has passion for it, the audiences were not large. Each night he would protest that this really must be the last night, as the numbers were too small. But Kay, with her “Field of Dreams, screen it and they will come” faith, carried on. Last month I couldn’t help thinking he was right, as with minutes before curtain up (there is no curtain, but you know what I mean) there were just the committee and me there. Then the door opened and in they poured. Bridget Jones’s Baby had a full house. It’s a community you see.