HOPE FOR SURVIVAL - a story about the importance of community

Took some time today to read "Come Before Winter" by Chuck Swindoll.  Liked this story:

Originally, American settlers build their home in the center of their acreage.  Later on many of them moved to the inside corners to be nearer to their neighbors. Understand, I wasn’t living back then, but from what I read, that’s actually what happened. It occurred when “Go west, young man!” was the challenge of America . . . when squatter’s rights seemed the most advantageous way to pry families loose and dare them to brave the elements via the covered wagon.

So out they came, exchanging the crowded, soot-choked industrial cities back East for the open plains, clear skies, and fertile, albeit rugged, farmland of the West.
Predictably, those early settlers built their cabins or sod huts smack dab in the middle of their homestead, acres (often miles) from the nearest family. Strong, sturdy fences marked property lines as pride of ownership became the badge of courage. Words like independence and private property were common table talk as the young were taught how to fight for survival.

But as time passed all that began to change. When photographers returned from those lonely houses, they showed pictures of wild-eyed women, stooped, gaunt, prematurely old men, and haunted-looking children. Life was hard making it on their own, especially through the bitter winters, fighting off disease and starvation.

The Lessons They Learned

More and more settlers learned that they had a better chance of making it if they would build their houses near each other, in the corner of their property rather than in the center. Four families could survive much easier if they loosened their grip on independence, built a gate in their fence, and relinquished their overstated emphasis on privacy. Enduring winter’s blast or a lengthy illness wasn’t nearly so frightful if you had three other families within walking distance. It proved to be much more fun coming together instead of living lonely, separate, touch-me-not lives of isolation.  From all this emerged a proverb:  “Shared joy is a double joy, shared sorrow is half a sorrow.”