Residents of the cluster of small towns where 4-year-old Wyatt Smitsky was found dead say theirs is an idyllic farming community, the kind of place where you don't have to lock your doors and everybody knows everybody.

"Everybody helps everybody," too, said Joyce Walters, a retired hairdresser who lives in Hookstown, next to Greene Township. "We're there for one another, good times, bad times."

Last evening, about 300 residents gathered for a vigil for Wyatt, whose body was found face-down in a covered septic tank near the family home on Saturday after an intense overnight search.

Residents estimated that more than half of the households in the area came out to help search for Wyatt Friday night. Among them was the boy's Sunday school teacher, Kristy Darnley, who combed the fields of brush around the Smitsky residence with a lantern in hand, and later drove to neighboring Hookstown and Georgetown hoping she might spot the boy at the side of the road.

But after police began investigating the case as a homicide, residents have had to come to grips with the reality that somebody -- perhaps somebody they know -- killed the young boy in a place they otherwise describe as "wonderfully safe."

As of yesterday evening, state police had made no arrests and had named no suspects. Beaver County Coroner Teri Tatalovich-Rossi said the results of an autopsy conducted yesterday were awaiting the results of other tests.

On Saturday, Wyatt's father, John Smitsky, was taken in handcuffs to the police station in Brighton, said the Rev. Wilmer J. Olszewski of Hookstown Free Methodist Church, who had been with the family since shortly after the boy had been reported missing.

There, Mr. Smitsky was questioned and released about five hours later.

Last night, residents gathered to mourn at the Free Methodist Church, a small white clapboard structure less than a mile from the Smitsky residence and where Wyatt's grandmother, Cindy Beck, would take Wyatt and his two siblings every Sunday for three hours of church and Sunday school.

More than 200 people packed into the small sanctuary and 100 more stood outside during the service. Several of them, including Mr. Olszewski, struggled at times to keep their composure.

But there also was a pervasive sense of anxiety as many of the questions surrounding the boy's death -- whether it was an accident or murder and who could have done it -- remained unanswered.

But, in yesterday morning's sermon and at the evening vigil, Mr. Olszewski urged congregants not to fixate on the unknown but, rather, to focus on supporting the Smitsky family.

"We're asking a lot of questions, questions of why, questions of how," he said. "The question is not why, but who. Who can we turn to? The answer is Jesus.

"We all have different opinions. We all have different thoughts, but we come together tonight."

Shortly after his son was found dead, Mr. Smitsky told Mr. Olszewski that he wanted to grow closer to God. The pastor said he hoped the tragedy would inspire others to do the same.

"[Wyatt] lights our world. Let me ask you this: How are you going to light your world?" he asked the congregants, who held candles and ribbons of green, Wyatt's favorite color.

Those who knew the boy described him as polite and sweet, if a bit ornery on occasion. Wyatt had a congenital heart defect that required three surgeries before the age of 2, but it did not appear to diminish his energy or personality.

"He was just a gentle soul," said Ms. Walters, whose 4-year-old granddaughter, Stella Hughes, was one of Wyatt's playmates.

"When you looked at him, you were just caught up by his charisma."