In a few hours, I will board a Texas-bound train in St. Louis. For more than a month I have been enjoying some time in my first and longest home. I'm not particularly sentimental about Indiana, but I do love the house I grew up in, and after five years in Texas, I love a place where the rains fall heavy in June. Since I first left home for college, sharing this place with friends has been one of my quietest joys. If you were here, we would work at the dining room table, then go for a walk under the old trees, and end our day on the porch together. This is a good place. This is home.
|A place where words are gathered and sent with care.|
|A place where someone brings me flowers as I work.|
|A place with room for friends.|
|A place where naps are encouraged.|
|A place we pray.|
|A place I must leave.|