My home: four walls of an ugly and old-fashioned farmhouse. A group of buildings in need of paint and repairs. A scraggly grove of trees that has suffered from the drought and a lawn invaded by thistles.
My home: It
is all of these, but oh! so much more. It is a shelter from the
elements, from the heat of summer and the snow and cold of winter. It is
a refuge from the unkind world. It is a sure haven in this time of
home: It is sweet to hear my children laugh and play. There is still
the romance in waiting for Daddy to come in from the field. There is
deep content in having someone to quarrel with, to love, to take care
of, to scold, and to forgive. There is still joy in a freshly-scrubbed
floor, the smell of a freshly-baked apple pie, the crackle of the fire
in the funny old heating stove.
It is the best place on earth to me--my home.