Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz is really right, there is no place like home. Whether you are six years or eighty, it is virtually impossible to hear the word home without feeling powerfully emotional.
For some, the thought of returning home might bring to mind the aroma of their mother’s freshly baked bread, or the reassuring safety of their father’s arms.
For others, a sense of peacefulness might surface, and with it a longing to return to better times. Others may remember home with a smile as they relive childhood memories and secrets between siblings…. roasting marshmallows over as open fireplace, late afternoon walks with neighborhood children …promises made…love found and lost, only to be found again and the open arms of the special people we can’t liv without.
For me, my home is tiny plank house in a small rural town…Times were tough in the 50’s, families in our area didn’t have much. But my siblings and I grew up feeling quit rich. We had each other and we had a place to call home. In our minds we had everything.
These days when I think of home, I realize much has changed but at the same time nothing has changed.
I feel fortunate to have discovered and clung to one of the very important concept throughout my life, home will always be home, and sometimes coming home is all that matters in the whole world. Of a certainty, home is where the heart is and that will never change. And on those tough days when I feel venerable and find it impossible to break away and physically return, I take advantage of anything I can get my hands on that can bring home to me…Author unknown
Millie’s thought for today, many readers will identify with the writer of this memory.... Reading helped me to rejuvenate my own memories for my hometown. My hope is to stir your own memories and as you remember a special happening or an childhood adventure spring forth pass them on to the younger generation.