I went to Helper, Utah yesterday just for a drive and a look around. There was a cute little clothing shop that interested us right away. The sign on the front door kindly said "Come On In", but the door itself had other plans- it was locked. A bit confused and disappointed, my friends and I leaned towards the glass to peer inside to find no one there, and we turned to continue down the street. As soon as we turned to go a kindly gal called to us from her car. She happened to be the owner of the little shop and was on her way to run an errand. She promised to return so that we could look around her shop to our hearts' content. In another shop I scored a sheet of newspaper from 1922 with a report on a couple of women who were wanted for running a silk robbery ring in Boston, and a few beautiful ads. After looking in a few more shops, rummaging through antiques, and taking tons of pictures with some train cars and an old bus that were displayed on the side of the street, we made our way back to the little shop. Again, no one was there but as we turned to go after waiting, we were again stopped by a voice calling from a car. It was a man this time, who identified us as the 3 gals who wanted to see the shop. After a few laughs he let us into the shop and phoned the owner. When she arrived she laughed with us and chatted as we looked through the racks of vintage and hand sewn clothes. The one thing, she said, about living in a tiny town was that she didn't have to keep regular store hours. We each left with a treasure and thanked her for coming back to let us look. I sometimes miss living in a small town where people know one-another and look after each other, where the sleepiness of the town draws in visitors from the city on weekends, and how the streets awaken during festivals. I don't think I would live in such a town again in my life, but I surely want to live near one so that I can enjoy quiet days like yesterday whenever I liked.
