I pass a lot of houses on my way home; some pretty, some inviting. But my heart skips a beat when I see my house nestled against the hill. I’m especially proud of the way it looks because I drew the plans myself. It started out large enough for us. I even had a study, in which two teenage boys now reside! It had a guest room, but my girl and nine dolls are permanent guests there now. It had a room for Peg, who hoped to turn it into her sewing room. But two boys swinging on the Dutch door have claimed that room. Right now it appears I’m not much of an architect. But it’ll get larger again.
One by one they’ll go away to college, work, the service, their own homes. Then there’ll be room: a guest room, a sewing room, a study, just for the two of us. But it won’t be empty. Every corner, room, nick in the coffee table will be full of memories. Memories of picnics, Christmases, birthdays, bedside vigils…going barefoot, vacations, cats, dogs, black eyes…graduations, first dates, arguments, ball games…and a thousand other things that fill the lives of those who rear five kids.
And Peg and I will sit quietly by the fire and listen to the laughter in the walls.
Source | Bob Benson, Laughter in the Walls
(Nashville: Impact Books, 1969)
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Image: The US postage stamp on family unity issued in 1984.