As winter moves forward in Kansas and we are 'house bound' one can't help but take a good look at their own home. I mean when your cooped up for days on end, one can't help but be aware of the things surrounding them. I'm going to admit something here.....For weeks I have read all the wonderful blogs out in Blog Land and drooled over all the wonderful, big homes displayed. To be honest, it's not hard to be envious of some of these women's homes. Not only are they big and the furniture perfect for each and every room but these women are always going shopping and buying more. Whether it's a big piece or something small to add just the right touch (Okay, they call it 'tweeking' but I absolutely hate that word!!) money seems to be no object.
The past two weeks we have watched the horrid and destruction in Haiti unfold. We have watched people who owned next to nothing lose even more....The most precious things they had, their loved ones. Among this nature made hell and grief beyond belief we saw the true sprit of human nature come through. With no money to build back their homes they put what we primitive lovers call 'make-do's' into work. Taking bits and pieces of tin, wood and rocks they have constructed new 'home's' to provide shelter for their families.
As I watched I was suddenly not only ashamed of myself (For being envious of others wonderful homes.) but for the people who own these homes. Why do American people think they need so much? Why do we think we have to have the best, the most perfect things for our homes? Why do we feel each room as to have just that 'right touch' for everyone to see?
Shortly after this devastating earthquake hit I was up early one morning walking through our house. Walking down our hallway my hand brushed against an antique piece of furniture and it was as though a jolt of electricity went through me. This old familiar piece of furniture that has been around for close to one hundred years was calling to me. It was telling me to take a good look at my house. With only the dim light of daylight starting to break through the front window, I looked around at this old house we call home. Yes, the carpet is worn in some places almost through and yes the walls need painting in the worst sort of way. The furniture has seen better days and nothing ever seems to stay in it's place thanks to kids and animals. But as I looked at each familiar room it showed me something else. This was OUR HOME! The home that we worked long hours and scrimped and saved for so we could have it paid off by the time we were fifty. The house that our kids call "home" and one that brings them comfort when things aren't going well.
Oh, I'll continue to buy pieces for this old house as we run across them at yard sales and I'll continue to make little things to give each room a different look. But no longer will I envy other woman and their gorgeous big homes with wonderful furnishings. My home is OURS and just like the people of Haiti, I will 'make-do' with what I have and thank God every day that He has allowed us to have a roof over our heads, food on our table and our family to be together. After all, isn't that what a home really is? With Love, Sher
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