What Grows in the Heat
Care, Community, and a Whole Lot of Bubbles
It was the kind of heat that slows time down. The kind that softens conversations, ripens fruit faster, and makes even a walk across the parking lot feel like a journey. On Tuesday, June 24, Bethel Park joined much of the East Coast under one of the most intense heat waves in recent memory. But even in the swelter, something beautiful unfolded.
Much of our community began the morning at the community center for the FMNP voucher distribution, so we had been anticipating a larger-than-usual turnout from our senior community. And while the sun had other plans for most outdoor fun, the market still buzzed with life—just at a slower, softer pace.
I'd originally planned to close out Children’s Month with our “Kid at Heart” play day, but with the feels-like temperature pushing triple digits, we chose to take a gentler route: play at your own pace, if and only if it felt right. One family—regulars, and always up for the activities—came ready to play, despite the heat. I brought out the chalk, the Skip-Its, the bubbles. And just like that, something quietly joyful came alive. A toddler giggled in her stroller as bubbles floated past; older kids tried out games their parents had grown up with, swapping tips and laughter in the bit of shade. It reminded me that joy doesn’t always need perfect weather—just a bit of room to breathe.
Everywhere, small gestures of care were taking root. Vendors looked out for one another in the heat, handing off icy drinks and pulling chairs into shade. Shoppers moved slower, more attentively. At one point, I rushed to check on an elderly woman resting at a table, only to find that another shopper had already stepped in and was keeping an eye on her. Small, unnoticed acts of care—quiet and constant.
Even the dogs stayed home this week. A bittersweet absence, but a kind one—their owners understood: hot pavement isn’t made for paws. And that understanding felt like its own kind of love.
Being out in that kind of weather reminds you just how much we live in rhythm with the seasons, whether we realize it or not. This week, nature said: take it slow, keep it kind. We focus on what matters. We share what we have. And somehow, even in the hottest week of the year, things still grow—melons, tomatoes, small moments of joy.
I didn’t grow up in Bethel Park. I don’t live here now. But I get to serve this community as its market manager and event coordinator, and that has become its own kind of belonging. I’m grateful for every vendor, every neighbor, every moment that makes this market feel like more than just a place to shop. It’s a place to connect, to look out for one another, and to celebrate the beauty of local life—even on the hottest day of the year.
I’m looking forward to those elusive perfect-weather Tuesdays when everything clicks and the market hums at full capacity. But even on a day like yesterday—quiet, careful, unbearably hot—I’m proud and grateful to be a part of it all—sweating through it together and still smiling.
