I set sail for downtown Whitefish on a Sunday while my husband golfed. There happened to be some shady parking on a sunny day, so I pulled up in front of the local Presbyterian Church. It is a lovely, well-kept building, and it seems to be one of the centers of community activity, anchored at the end of the retail district. I am a people watcher (and writer), so I sat in my car and watched the lovely gathering of people on the wide sidewalk where tables and chairs had been set up for after-church socializing around the anchoring presence of a coffee urn. The folks tended to be middle-aged or older. It looked as if they were truly enjoying each other's company, and I got the distinct impression that, had I walked up and introduced myself, they would have welcomed me right into the community of fellowship that day.
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