Here’s a small town anecdote for a change of pace.
I live in a community of about 30,000 in farm country. To our north is a sizeable Mennonite population—everything from modern worshippers (large black SUVs in neat rows at weddings & funerals) to old order folk (horses and buggies trundling side roads out in the vast nowhere).
This past summer, a group probably somewhat in between those two polarities happened to be picnicking at a park in town by the river.
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