Our first winter in an RV park in the States was a unique experience. There is a lot of “togetherness” in an RV. Living in about 200 square feet of space was cozy, and with neighbours almost on your doorstep many previous personal experiences were now shared with strangers.
Our unit did not have laundry facilities but there was a laundry area down the street. There we doled out our dirty linen into the various machines and with a hot coffee in hand, waited for them to do their work. There was time for visiting with other RV residents and then as the clothes dried, without a shred of embarrassment, we spread and folded our underwear and the rest of our laundry in front of our new friends.
Last week we were a sock short. What an uproar from my husband! Every woman knows there is a sixth dimension where lost socks go, but he carried on for days. The now single sock was draped over a chair as a constant reminder that its mate had not been found.
Then, one day the RV door flew open and my excited husband exclaimed: “I’ve found it, I found it! I’ve been checking the laundry room every day and today it was there.”
Such joy over one lost sock!
In a world where sheep are seldom seen and infrequently lost and where a lost coin (unless it is a looney) is seldom searched for, here was something perhaps less biblical but something we could all relate to … and in the RV park that day there was great rejoicing over the finding of the one lost sock!
