Christmas past in Dublin, Bucks County

Looking back, I have suddenly realized that I have always been a small-town girl. I live on 10 acres now, and dabbled in farming, but my life has been lived in small towns. I think it gives one a special perspective on life.
I grew up in Cincinnati – sort of. I lived on a cul-de-sac in a suburb called Kennedy Heights, which was technically a small town. The Cincinnati city limit ran along the fence between my back yard and the folks behind us. I grew up hearing a cow bellowing for her calf every spring, and Cincinnati was an hour away by streetcar.
You will be able to read all about it when I finally finish my memoirs “Growing up at the End of the Line.”
My first year of marriage was on a New Mexico U.S. Air Force Base next to Alamogordo. Now there was a small town. We had to drive 30 miles to get a hand-dipped ice cream cone and the Sears Roebuck catalog was my mall.
Piqua, Ohio, was next, where I got my first taste of country living – 8 miles out of town in farm country. My women friends were farmers’ wives and I met my first border collie, but thought she was just an amazing mutt. The mall there was akin to Q-Mart in Quakertown and since the nearest city was Dayton, it was my main source of shopping.
From there I went East to Millington, N.J., part of a string of little towns along the Erie Lackawanna railroad commuter line to New York City. My tri-level was in a small development – think an old Joanne Woodward/Paul Newman movie where the wife drove hubby to the train every morning in the station wagon. We had a “shopping center” (very small) and headed down to Route 22 for a long string of chain stores.

And then I arrived in Bucks County and could not believe my good fortune. I didn’t miss the big city because I had never lived in one. My first landing was a house that had a room that predated 1774, and it sat on 15 acres. Talk about heaven.
But life changes and we established (and legally protected) our present home on 10 acres of worn-out farmland. This is where I started my life as a hobby farmer. And our small town was Dublin Borough.
It was not the Dublin you see today – it was very small. You may think it is small now. No, now it is a veritable metropolis. And it is hard for a small town girl to accept.
But it does have special appeal when a church in town goes all out at Christmas. We were lucky to share in the miracle that appears (like “Brigadoon”) on the main street.
I have always enjoyed educating what I call “newbies” to small town life, but this is over the top. For a long weekend a parcel of Dublin becomes the village of Bethlehem and we loved the years we provided the sheep for the “shepherds in the fields, watching their flock by night.” It was not an easy job keeping watch five times a night for three straight nights, but it was an experience I will always treasure.
Whatever your beliefs, this is the best free show you will ever see. No big city can compete with it. Dress for the weather and be prepared to be a child again, when any miracle is possible.

---

Join our readers whose generous donations are making it possible for you to read our news coverage. Help keep local journalism alive and our community strong. Donate today.