The dim light from our small laundry room lamp casts its glow across my mother's face and sends shadows skittering across the room.
As I glance up at her from where I am sitting, the thought that has been throbbing through my heart all day rises once again to my thoughts.
There really is no place like home.
Elizabeth is engrossed in a new book; her curly head bent low to catch the dark stamp of words printed across the soft flutter of pages; her hair, soft and golden and fine, is smooth against her cheek.
I love to watch her face as she reads, her lips moving silently to the rythm of the neatly woven story; her face contorting frequently into a vast mix of facial movements--first a frown of worry, then a twist of excitement, and last a gleeful bounce and joyful outloud chuckle as the story turns to a happier note.
There really is no place like home.
Sarah is in the kitchen, enveloped in the nut brown sweater I bought for her several years ago. The whir of the beater winds its way down the hall to my ears, teasing me with thoughts of the delightful something she is making in the kitchen.
There really is no place like home.
My Daddy, though not with us now, can be felt just the same. I can picture him sitting in the family room at my grandparent's house, surrounded by a variety of musty antiques, where he is resting after a hard day's worth of work. The weather and car trouble has kept him from home...but our thoughts travel the miles between us and wrap around him with good-night hugs.
There really is no place like home.
Sometimes I wonder why I have been so blessed. My family isn't rich...we don't own all of the latest gadgets and gizmos...sometimes it even seems as if we've seen more than our fair share of hardships in life. But sometimes, it isn't what you own that measures up what you have. It's more than that.
It's the roof over my head, and my lovable, teasing sisters, and the set of parents that love me more than life itself.
It's the rain on the windowpane. It's the whisper of the wind through our woods. It's the stars shining down on our very own bit of Earth. It's all of the things that I am sometimes too busy to look up at and notice.
And when I remember all of these things...I realize that I'm one of the very richest people on earth.
8 comments:
Oh..... Emily. My breath has been taken away. I feel the tears starting to my eyes. This is a post of beauty beyond measure. Thank you so much!!
And don't worry! I'm working on writing back to your thrilling U2U!:)
Emma
Beautiful, Emily.
This is an absolutely gorgeous post, Emily!
All I can say is amen, amen, amen! It is amazing how simple little things, when looked through the right eyes at the right time, are so wonderful!
Rejoicing in His goodness,
Jane Ellen
A beautiful, beautiful remembrance of the meaning in the little things.
Beautiful post, Emily.
You certainly have a way with words - I was able to picture all the scenes you descibed with great clarity.
Thankyou once again for the two blog awards. Now I've given you another award, if you're interested!
http://ribbonsoflight.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-awards.html
Oh, no, no! I did not think you critical at all or in any way mean :). I LOVE your comments and you may ramble on as much as you like! I thought it was only fare for me and everyone else if I at least gave a few reasons for my opinion and gave some back as of why I said the things I said. I understand what you meant completely. I also felt that maybe I sounded too harsh so I thought I should at least let everyone know that I have read about him. I'm so sorry for any misunderstanding. Like I said before, I love your comments :). So please, comment anytime and share your opinions anytime :)!
By the way, beautiful post!
Hmmm....I think of home, as being with people I love.
Ever since my family moved from Vermont [where I was born], no physical place has ever felt like home. That's still where it's at to me. But with people, that is when I feel I am most at home outside the state lines of my Green Mountain state.
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