Strong Towns

10An Intentional Life

My oldest daughter, Chloe, came home from her first day of kindergarten bursting with joy. Back then she was a chatty princess with a lot to say. My wife and I listened to her tell us about her day: her teacher, the new routine, all the new friends she was making. It was beautiful.

At one point she told us the important details about a new girl she met. This new friend had blonde hair (like Chloe) and blue eyes (like Chloe) and she liked the color pink (serendipitously, just like Chloe). With so much in common, they were destined to be friends. In fact, Chloe declared they were going to be best friends. The new girl’s name was Holly.

It wasn’t long after that we found out an important detail about Holly: She lived with her family in a home directly across the street from ours. Not down the road. Not up the block. Directly opposite the street from our home.

My wife and I had lived in our house for over a dozen years at that point. Holly’s family had lived in theirs even longer. We were both active families, involved in the community, with work, and with our churches. Yet, the thick woods covering the lots we each occupied along a cul-de-sac was enough of a barrier to our getting to know each other that we didn’t even realize our neighbors across the street had a little girl the same age as ours.

That is, until they met at the kindergarten in the elementary school six miles away.

I’ve spent a good portion of my professional life trying to understand why ...