Sunday, August 26, 2007

Hear the Beauty

I carried our wind chimes in from the back porch; one of the very last items to be packed. Three solid days of careful thought when labeling boxes "apartment" or "storage" had resulted in an empty and echoing house.

As I firmly shut the door, the flapping of the tattered roof of the ancient barn behind the parsonage traveled across our yard and followed me inside. The chimes in my hand rang out and I felt a tugging at my heart for the small town we were leaving. The cows meandering through the pastures, the wheat fields bending in the hot wind blowing over the mountains, the deer bounding through meadows and delighting us on our family bike rides.

This is the only home Eliana has ever known. It is a place where my sons learned to relate to the sweet people who were ten times their age. Where a deeper relationship was forged between my husband and myself, for at times it surely seemed we were the only two people our age for miles.

It will always be so. Home. I did not want to leave.

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