A Missed Opportunity

One of the things in life I regret is a missed opportunity.

When we were first married, we lived in low-income housing.  We had our share of our adventures (mostly run-ins with the police, fire department, and other law enforcement) that we joke about now, but I also missed out on something that would have made life beautiful.

Our townhome complex was filled with diversity.  I could smell the neighbors’ dinners, as I walked home from work.  I know that there were at least four countries represented on our little “cell block.”

I wish I had taken the chance to really burrow into our community.  My excuse was that I was all alone, as Michael and I worked opposite shifts.  But that should have propelled me into the community rather than away from it.

Now, as a family that tries to eat a diverse palate of foods, I could use some insider knowledge.  And I could use some more friends from diverse backgrounds to help me make sense of this troubled world.

Resolved, to not miss another opportunity to delve deep into my local community.

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