Cat Square on a Sunday afternoon...

We pulled into the Cat Square Superette with the trailer tire smoking. Twenty minutes earlier we had picked up a load of hay and were headed back home to the farm. The drought has been so bad we only got one cutting of hay, not enough to feed the cows all winter, and there is none to be had in our part of the state. So there we were in the parking lot of this superette on a Sunday afternoon, two hours at least from home, our covenant group coming over at seven p.m., broken down in the middle of Cat Square, N.C. The middle was about all there was to Cat Square... a crossroad with a closed service station on one side and a superette on the other. For those of you who have not been to a superette, it is a small grocery store much like the one I went to with my grandmother in Walkerton, Virginia. There is a meat market in the back, drink coolers on one side and frozen food on the other. The aisles in between carry the necessities of life... dog food, nuts, bolts and nails, bread and cookies, juice and vegetables, soup, movies to rent.
Michael went into the store to ask for help. A few minutes later he came out and said "You have to see this"! I went in and spent time looking through the aisles, watching and listening as I drank my Yoohoo and ate butter cookies (on sale for fifty cents). The butcher/cook/owner and helper were cleaning up behind the meat counter. Potato soup was simmering on the stove for the lunch crowd on Monday. Sirloin was on sale. People came and went, were greeted by name, questions were asked and answered. The cashier sat at her place in the front of the store, smoking her cigarette and talking on the phone while she made change. Out front, three African American guys laughed and joked, greeting other folks as they drove up. A young man, lonesome and looking for a new audience, began to tell me his life story. People came and went, greeting each other, men tipping their hats, women offering hugs and waves. Everybody seemed to know who everybody else was. And there we were, Samaritans with our ox in a ditch (excuse the mixed Biblical metaphor, please). The owner made a few calls to people he knew and soon help was on the way.
As I sat there listening to Dave tell me his woes (ex-wife on crack, raising 4 year old daughter alone, left NASCAR job to be at home with her and can’t find work, found Jesus last November and life has been getting better, job interview this week), I felt at home. These strangers had taken us in, offered help on a Sunday afternoon, provided for us. When you are far from home, broken down and unable to help yourself, kindness and community become an immediate necessity that cannot be purchased at a superette. But, there it was and it was freely offered.
As we drove up our driveway, our group sat on the deck watching the moon, sharing the holy, looking for a new direction for our gathering. We were hugged and clucked over as we settled in and caught up. Michael told the story of our afternoon in Cat Square and something clicked for us all. We wanted what they had... community... and we wanted to experience this with each other and with God. As we talked about a new name for our group, the word "homecoming" mattered to many because they felt that described what they want to do... come home to themselves and to God. But the story tickled our funny bones so we decided on a new name. The Homecoming Group a.k.a. The Cat Square Superette Bridge Club Parlor Dancing Society. That just about covers it all. Maybe Tee shirts are in our future. So for our next meeting Pat Parker, our designated question asker, will help us assemble an altar with holy objects we bring. Every time we meet, a new altar will be built. We are bringing our Ark of the Covenant to life, to our shared lives. We will have communion every time we meet, sing and pray as we depart to our separate lives, bound by the same ties that bind the folks in Cat Square, N.C., the ties of loving community. Home, sweet home...