[Prince Edward County, Virginia, 250th Anniversary Celebration]

Children's Creative Exhibition, "People and Places of Prince Edward County" - April 30th, 2004

A Strange Love

By Alyce Loeser, Home Educated Student
First Place Writing Contest Winner Grades 9-12

April 20th, 1951

Why do I love it?I have thought it unreasonable, my love for this place, sunk deep in the breast of the Virginia hills. This place beneath the stars that I can see in the twilight beyond my back door.

Called it homebound to love this town, still huddled in the hushed wake of trains that have roared into the distance.

Yes, I have believed myself strange for loving it so.

But I have sat with the farmers, the wide-bellied, open-hearted, loud-laughing, sunbathed faces at their market in the old depot.

I have walked in the crowds, swelling and writhing beneath a hot May morning sun, between the Heart of Virginia¹s festival booths, the air thick with fried food, laughter.

Life happening.

I have wandered down a conflicted main street, through doors and into sweet smelling shops, through the black and white extravagance of the towering warehouses.

And then, it does not seem strange.

There is no oddity in love for a people that covered their weeping eyes behind flags and flickering candles when the world was changed on Sept. 11th.

People who tilt their heads back and revel in the undulating glow of fireworks on the fourth of July.

People who, when assaulted by a violence beyond comprehension, bathed a main street store with tears turned to flowers.

People who drive unmuffiered trucks, putter happily through Wal-Mart on a lazy Monday and go humbly to their churches on Sunday.

Why should I think it strange to love it?

The lady at my tiny post office, she knows my name. She asks about my family.

The leather-faced man in the battered pick-up raises his fingers from the steering wheel to salute me, a stranger and yet, somehow an old friend.

I have been through its fields, rolled and tossed, when they screamed with the voices of a million summer crickets under a faded sky.

Walked its trails, packed by feet, beneath the reaching trees.

The brown waters of a lake, shot with sun light, have covered me, the heady aroma of a buzzing laundry mat has engulfed me and the metallic harmony of the flag pole singing over the gray court house steps has filled my ears.

Why do I love it so?

I once thought it strange to love a place, this place, as I do.

This county drowsing in the brilliance of its future, lulled by the assurance of its past.

This town, its only and best. But I have counted my reasons.

A reason for every star I can see in the clear blackness from beyond my back door. It is a strong bond that holds my heart to this place.

A strange love.

Strange, yes, but very true. As true as the stars themselves.

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