Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco… mine is holed up in Sugar Grove. I’ve never actually lived there, but from my first day at Berne Union in Mrs. Hoover’s first grade class through the last homeroom class with Mrs. Nimon (who was also my third grade teacher), I have loved Sugar Grove.
Sugar Grove is basically a one street town—that is, she has only one street wide enough to accommodate two cars at a time. But, that one street—Main Street—is wide and generous with sidewalks that undulate over the ancient root systems of the sugar maples after which the village was named. These well-endowed maple trees have seen transportation morph from horse-pulled to horse-powered.
The simplicity of Sugar Grove’s street names belies her charm. To the west behind the row of homes on Main lies an empty swell, a faint and ghostly remnant of the once glorious Ohio-Erie Canal crested by a one-lane street aptly named Canal Street. If you walk from Canal and head east across Main you will discover that Canal Street is not the only appropriately named street. Its smaller sister to the east of Main is cleverly dubbed “East Street.”
Cordial homes crowd the sidewalk along Main Street, as though they’re anxious to invite you in. Like giggling maids at a spring gala, they’re careful to not appear so aloof as to go unnoticed. There are no mansions to marvel at, only sensible homes of welcoming dignity. Main Street’s leafy maples lean out over the throughway like a giant awning, providing a natural source of conditioned air.
By contrast, the homes along the old canal stand shoulder to shoulder, like a row of working-class men leaning over the infield fence of a racetrack. Canal Street literally clings to the top edge of the old canal basin. The homes along Canal are modestly built. Most are one and half story, wood structures that today look slightly confused, as though they’ve patiently waited their turn at prominence only to remain in the back row. When they were built, the canal traffic gave them focus and purpose. Now with the canal gone they stand rather forlornly staring at the back yards of the homes on Main Street, like a squad of reserve soldiers waiting to be called to the front. Unlike the other tree lined streets of Sugar Grove, Canal Street simply doesn’t have room for the massive but gentle, leafy gifts that decorate the rest of the village. But that in no way demeans the inhabitants who enjoy deep family roots that provide stability and serenity.
Eventually, as the age of modern transportation progressed, the town became a siding exit for the four-lane highway that now rushes travelers past the back yards of the tiny community. My father enjoyed pointing out to his traffic-frustrated friends in Lancaster that “Sugar Grove has had a bypass for years.”
Like the plight of Motor Springs in the Disney movie Cars, Sugar Grove suffered economically after the four lane highway opened. But because of the strong foundation of its citizenry, her downturn resulted in a deepening of her character and charm. Character isn’t something you purchase; you can’t juxtapose character and money. Rather, it’s an inherent quality that springs up mysteriously to fill a void. It’s a gift. It’s more related to grace and mercy than commerce and efficiency. Character enlarges our heart and spirit; it tempers our ego.
I guess I’m saying Sugar Grove’s attraction to me has always been her simplicity. Simplicity is a very godly characteristic. Listen to this simple verse with a profound promise—
“Godliness with contentment is great gain.” I Timothy 6:6
Sugar Grove and the villages that dot our community are content with their simplicity, and so am I.