There's Hope For Todayਨਮੂਨਾ

The old warehouse claimed to be a trailer supply store, but it was a lot more than that. Over the years, the owners had dabbled in everything from go-karts to chainsaws to garden supplies to sailcloth.

It was a real “guy place.” I doubt if the gritty concrete floors had ever known the clicking sound of high heels. The girl at the register chewed gum and knew where to find a reverse-threaded brass fitting for a twenty-year-old barbeque grill. As a matter of fact, the girl at the register could probably have welded a barbeque grill from scrap iron. The aisles were cluttered. The place smelled like worn leather and hydraulic fluid. Every aisle held a mystery to be uncovered.

When the store moved to a brand new, girl-friendly place across the highway, it grieved me, like seeing the town diner replaced by a McDonald’s. Everything is shrink-wrapped at the new place, and I’ll bet you can find nail polish on aisle three. It might as well be a Mega-Mart Supercenter.

God created an infinite variety in mountains, rivers, forests, and people. We are gravitating toward strip-mall uniformity in the name of political correctness. Learn to enjoy and appreciate our differences. Blind conformity veils the creativity of God.