A Note on Nostalgia

Sitting in front of Thomas Judd's General Store today sipping a soda with my daughter as we watched the cars ply their way down Tabernacle, I realized that I yearn for simpler times. My daughter calls Judd's, "the penny-candy store", and looks forward anxiously to our weekly visits. We don't really do anything special there, but for some reason it just is special.
We open the squeaky door. My little girl then pushes the footstool over to the containers of penny-candy so she can see every kind. She chooses five candies and promptly pay with her nickel. The girl behind the counter plays the part well as she carefully places the tiny candies in a brown paper bag and folds it just right. Following this ritual, we usually retire to the benches out front where we quietly consume all of our goodies.
At Judd's, I don't have to "biggie" size anything, I don't have to speak loudly into the microphone at the drive-thru, and I don't have to save my kid by climbing up the multi-colored slide at the playground. I don't have anything against those fast food mega-chains, but I'm just thankful my town has a Judd's where I can take my two-year-old on a date.