I love the feel of this picture. The house calls out to my heart, and wraps it in an envelope of pure joy. It reflects a sense of belonging and awakens a powerful longing for a place called ‘ Home.’ Children, who have ever spent time in institutional care, know what I am talking about.
I remember riding a bus to church from the Children’s Home. The bus was full of teenagers. We would travel in the winter to a church half-way across town after dark. The bus was silent as all of our faces pressed against the windows. Houses lined the streets as the bus drove by. We looked at each single house, trying to see families gathered around the kitchen tables, mothers playing or reading to their children. The houses were warm and inviting, and we longed to be in them, to belong. We wanted a place called ‘Home’ with every beat of our hearts. We knew what it was like to live without one.
Even now, as an old woman, I am drawn to houses that are all lit up. I have a home I dearly love, but I still have compassion for those who don’t, and when I am able, I try to help some find a way to get help and a place to live.