A woman walking by with her children last night stopped to comment on the new round window. She approved, and she told my husband she had thought this was still a church. She didn't know it was now privately owned. She was interested in coming in to take a peek at the stained glass windows, but she'll come do that another time, minus children and rain. She moved to this area a while ago and likes it here a lot.
Then she said something that got me to thinking. She knows of a neighbour who is really into local history. My husband asked if she meant Mary and Paul, the local history experts I know. But she said she didn't know them. She meant someone else.
This sort of set me aback, because to my mind, if you live in a village this size, it seems you should know everyone. Mary and Paul live only two blocks from this woman. When I was growing up, I knew every single occupant of every home in my neighbourhood (though at the time, I would have spelled it neighborhood, as I was in the States!). But then I got to thinking: I only knew all those people because we went to the same church. Once this church we own closed down, this village lost its common gathering space. Where else were neighbours to meet and get to know each other? There are no other stores here but the gas station. There is nothing going on at the community centre. Unless someone makes a point of organizing a village ball game or potluck in the park, there really isn't anything going on. You only get to meet your immediate neighbours.
It drove home to me how important a church is to a community, and Warwick doesn't have any functioning church now. I feel a sense of responsibility to get this place up and running again as soon as Covid allows it -- Mom and Tot groups, Sit and Knit groups, free movie nights, Osteofit classes, yoga, little concerts, dances. To bring people together and forge a sense of commonality. To let neighbours become friends. This building was made to bring people together, and I want it to do that again.