Home Sweet Home

Snapshot by Anita

I have always been captivated by old structures. Maybe it's because when I see an old house or abandoned building the writer in me comes to life spinning a tale of what might have been.

Look at this home sweet home. 

Don't see it? Let me help. 

In a small country town, not unlike my own hometown, there was a man who one day fell in love and took a wife. He was a simple man who worked with his hand and believed in God and family. With the help of neighbors and kinfolk, they built a small house and made it a home. It didn't have grand ceilings or fancy shutters, but it had a warm fire, the sound of laughter and the smell of home cooked food.

Soon this young couple was expecting their first child. They couldn't be more thrilled. Although they didn't have much to offer as far as worldly goods go, they had shelter, food and plenty of love to share. As time passed and their family grew from two, to three, to four; they learned that the love of God and family was the greatest thing they could ever provide for their children.

The man earned his living working the land by the sweat of his brow. The lady sewed every piece of clothes and cook every meal they shared. The children learned to take pride in their work and not take advantage of those they worked for. That a house is not wood and glass, but love, laughter, commitment; a choice to allow others to matter to you and you to matter to them. 

Soon the children were grown and chose spouses to love. Each had a home and family of their own. As they laid their own children down to sleep, they would tell them stories of growing up in the little house. How their Mom always smelled like fresh baked biscuits. How their Dad would take them to the local fishing hole and praise even the smallest fish. How not a day went by when they didn't know good times or bad times, God was watching out for them.

I like this little house. 

Some time after I had taken the snapshot my father saw it and told me that generations ago, members of my own family lived here. (This home is in my hometown where I still live.) I had no idea when I captured it.

Generations still tell a story of the generation before. That's the way it's always been and always will be. One question.....are you careful about the story your leaving?