Sunday, August 7, 2016

What Does Home Sweet Home Mean To YOU?

By Jennifer Elizabeth Masters

Arizona adobe home

When we think of home we think of sweetness, fond memories, and childhood. We tend to forget the pain, and suffering and remember the best parts. At least that is what happy people do, they dwell in the happy memories and let go of the ones that aren't so sweet.

Today, I was gifted with a magical moment of walking back through time with a group of strangers.


By the time I finished writing my blog today about time, it was already hot. My dogs had almost given up on their morning foray into the great unknown of the Mojave desert. 

We drove up Interstate 14 to the next exit, enjoyed the sunshine on our walk, as long as we could stand the rising heat. Upon returning to our street, I noticed a brand new silver sedan parked just ahead
of my home. I pulled my car into the driveway and got out to shut the gate. Rather than being suspicious of the three people eyeing my house, I looked up and smiled welcomingly.

Three Mules For Sister Sarah home in the Mojave Desert
It felt as if they had an interest in my house. The older woman in the back seat asked, "Are you enjoying your home?" I replied with a smile, "Yes, I am. Did you live here?" She told me she did sixty years previously. She was surprised when I offered them a tour.

The older man sitting behind the wheel waved me off and said, "No, it's all right." I could tell the women were curious and sentimental about the house. They wouldn't have been sitting there looking at it if they weren't interested.

As an Intuitive, I can tell when I can trust someone and when I am safe. I knew these people had fond memories of this place and wanted to see it again. At first, they all said they didn't want to come in. Then the younger woman in the front seat saw I meant what I said and began to get out of the car. "I want to see inside," she exclaimed at she hoisted herself out of the car. I warned them I had a house full of animals. They weren't bothered at all. Her mother joined us in the driveway.

During our tour, they told me about the door that used to face east from the living room. The younger woman, Leslie described her pink canopy bed that occupied what I now use as my office. Her mother said she had a crib in that room. They each shared their fond memories of life with me. 

Leslie's mother said the house seemed much smaller now. I asked if she lived in a large home now? She said she did. Perspective is everything. For me, this little three-bedroom home is a perfect size. I feel like Goldilocks, "This house is just right!"

I asked about the yard. They both noted there were several huge trees in their yard, one was a cottonwood, that offered lots of shade where the blazing sun now shone. They had roses along the fenceline where the Agave are growing. They had plenty of shade and lots of green grass.

They both inquired about my books when I told them I was a writer. Leslie's mother hugged me tightly to her, I felt loved. I told Leslie she was beautiful as she reached out her hand to shake mine, and then she hugged me instead saying, "Thank you!" I gave them cards and they both left smiling about what they had just experienced. They were glad I loved their home too.

They were very appreciative to have this opportunity to see their family home from a fresh perspective. I received something too; a little more insight about my home. Apparently, I am not the only one that is an adventurer. My house was moved from Nevada to the spot it now sits in the Mojave Desert of California. You just never know do you?

What's The Moral Of This Story?

The moral of this story is, be kind to strangers,  always do your dishes, keeping your house clutter free. You never know when people will be lining up for their guided tour!

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Jennifer is the author of the forthcoming book: 

Happy Here, Happy Anywhere:

The Step-By-Step Guide to Overcoming Anxiety, Depression, 
and Unhappiness Without A Prescription!


© Jennifer Elizabeth Masters    All Rights Reserved. 
No part may be copied or reproduced in any form without the author's written consent.




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