I didn’t grow up with dreams of moving to the Big Apple… or any other fruit-filled city.  I loved growing up in a small, Southern town.  We had two stoplights and everything I needed, which included plenty of people who loved me and looked out for me. There was always someone to remind me when I left my purse on the counter or to help me break into my car when I locked the keys inside. No matter what happened, people were willing to help each other, and that's what made it home.

Once I realized the glamorous world of public relations was calling my name, I packed up for the big city to live out my dreams… and planned to return home in two years (three tops!). It’s been eight years since I left the comfort of my hometown, but it didn’t take me long to realize I was also at home in New York City.  

While the faces are different, I am still very much a part of a community that takes care of each other. There’s the Smiley Cashier at the deli who reaches the toilet paper from the top shelf for me (even when I promise to pay later!). Or Coffee Cart man, who greets me with “Good Morning, Sweetie” as he hands me the perfect cup, all without me saying a word. I’m on a first name basis with the man at the Laundromat, who always asks about my travels. And, of course, there are the countless neighbors I share a smile with during my walking commute – my mornings wouldn’t be the same without Headphones Man and Lady Walking Baby.

The interactions may be different, but they’re still friendly and neighborly. And although I’m now a New Yorker, I’m also still a small town girl.

- Meagan