BY VIKI MATHER
One day last winter, I stopped at the corner
to get the mail. I bought gas, and a small order of fries to go
from the little restaurant. I borrowed their phone to call
Allan to give him an idea of when I'd be home.
Then I went into the corner store to buy a
bottle of juice and check the lottery ticket Allan had bought
the week before. No luck. I paid for the juice, paid for the
gas, then went back to the restaurant for the fries.
I got the mail, gas and snacks all at one
stop, all in the space of a few minutes. It was very
convenient, and very pleasurable, as the folks who ran the
store, the restaurant, and the gas bar have always been very
friendly, very efficient.
When Allan took the "town trip" a week later
- the store was gone. The gas station shut, the restaurant
dark. A small sign on the window said it was closed for
renovations.
We watched over the next few weeks to see
signs of change, but there were none. We asked our neighbours
what had happened, but no one knew.
The sign suggesting renovations stayed, but
nothing seemed to be happening.
By spring, the cold truth was beginning to
sink in. There would be no renovations. There would be no
re-opening of the store.
We adapted. We had no choice. At the next
nearest gas station, 10 kilometres away, I asked if their
business had increased since our little store closed. Yes! They
were up by 30 percent! This new-to-us location was OK, but we
didn't know the staff, the restaurant didn't feel like home,
and the store sold only candy bars and windshield fluid.
Spring passed into summer, and a for-sale
sign replaced the renovation sign. The gas pumps disappeared.
The big overhead lights came down.
I really miss our corner store. Especially
now, in the summer. The convenience of it all was so very good.
The gas prices were always the best, the service always prompt
and courteous.
The corner store was always the place we
stopped at the end of a long day in town. We're tired and
thirsty, often hot and in need of a cool drink,
and perhaps needing something or other that
we forgot to buy in town.
The folks at the corner store were always
there for us - to help change a flat tire, to accept parcels
for us, a bathroom for the kids in an emergency, a place to get
hot chocolate on winter mornings and to bump into friends all
year long.
Will someone buy our corner store and gas
bar? I sure hope so. And I hope it is soon. I know there are
lots of folks, just like us, who need this little haven to help
us through the day.
Viki Mather lives by a lake near Sudbury.
