This is my comfortable front porch at our mobile
home. We moved here 18 years ago the end of last
month. We had lived in the same house for many
years and raised our three children there and made
many happy memories. Our son, John and his wife,
Chris helped us move. After we had moved everything
out of the of the house, I found John in one of the empty
rooms, just looking around and I asked, "Does this bother
you, son?" He answered, "Some, how about you, mom?"
I answered, "This is just four empty walls. What is
important has been moved to our new home!"
HOUSE OR HOME
A house is made...
Of brick, wood and such.
A home is made...
Of family ties, with a loving touch.
You can't tell house from home,
Viewing the outside,
But a house is empty rooms,
Where love does not abide.
Some, try to make a house
The grandest on their street.
Striving for the best,
Working hard to compete.
Forgetting, it is just a house
If love does not reign,
Sometimes filled with bitterness,
Sometimes filled with pain.
It matters not what it shall be,
A mansion or a cottage fair,
To make a house a home...
Love must be dwelling there!
Freda Fullerton
July 10, 2011
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