When a Home Becomes a House by Rick Smith

Posted By Rick Smith on Feb 25, 2022

When a Home Becomes a House

by Rick Smith 

At first the life-changing reality wasn’t even noticeable. The subtle curse of consistency had provided a world taken for granted.

After all, the family had resided in the house for 24 years. Sure, the twin girls were both grown and gone now, but they returned every year to visit with their own families. Sometimes the twins both visited at the same time and those days were always crazy days.

They brought back memories of bygone times — like the summer the twins had a big birthday party when they turned 11-years-old. All the kids in the neighborhood came and a wild game of kickball was played in the backyard.  The kids had lots of fun until one booming kick flew right through an upstairs window. The kids screamed in terror as glass shattered and fell all around. Some of the kids cried for having broken the window.  But the parents calmed everyone  down and then brought  in  special repairmen to make the window like new again.

That wasn’t the first time the house realized it was loved. Deep in its foundation the house held years of loving memories back to when the family first moved in and the girls were just three years old.

“I was just a house before I became a home,” it remembered. “But when a family moved in, my dream came true. It’s the dream of every house to become a home.” Whenever it dwelled upon its memories, the house could feel its attic swell with joy and contentment.

Through the years the family lovingly cared for the house, always finding ways to make it more attractive…more of a home. After 24 years, the trees the family had planted provided the house with cool shade and it enjoyed that very much.

The house was handsomely dressed on the outside with shrubs and flower beds and a lush green lawn. Its backyard was fenced and was complete with patio furniture and a swing set for the kids. The only thing the house would have added to the yard would have been a dog. The house had always wanted to know what it would feel like to have a dog around it. But it knew that could never happen because the family was all allergic to dog hair.

There were the fish, of course, and the house did enjoy the beautiful 100-gallon seawater aquarium and the feeling of sophistication the aquarium provided by just being there. Observing the beautiful marine life always provided the house a sublime escape from everything else. The house believed the family felt the same way about the aquarium, even though it knew they decided to get it because fish don’t have hair.

One time the owners almost burned the house down when bread in the toaster nearly caught fire. “Smoke filled the room and I screamed my head off,” the house recalled to itself. It was glad the owners had installed several smoke voices for it to have at various locations around the house. “Actually, it was Teddy Roosevelt who deserves credit for my smoke voices,” the house realized.

That is because it was right after the family had acquired a large oil painting of America’s 26^th President that smoke detectors were added in various rooms of the house. The owners admired Teddy Roosevelt because he was a conservationist. They bought the painting at a charity art auction and proudly hung it above their fireplace. The house came to realize that the ornately gold-framed portrait infused a caring spirit into it whenever it gazed at Roosevelt’s image. The house’s attic felt lifted by the strong posture of the president.

Then one evening the parents went to a movie and the house heard the comment, “really don’t need this much space anymore.”‘

“It’s just a passing line of chit-chat,” the house surmised. It gave the comment no further thought.

But the next day, things started happening that made the house wonder. Why was the swing set and patio furniture gone from the backyard? And why were empty cardboard boxes being filled with books from bookcases and items from closets, cabinets, and drawers? “What’s happening?” the house said to itself. It had a fearful feeling deep down in its basement. “Am I losing my family?”

The next day a man in a white hat came to the house and the owners said to him, “We’ll be gone by Friday.”

The house felt the oxygen go out of all its rooms. Even Teddy Roosevelt’s powerful posture could not lift its spirit. The house understood and accepted the terrible truth:  “I am no longer going to be a home.”

During the next two days, everything was removed from the house. All the furniture, all the wall items, all the knick-knacks, all the family things that made the house a home. The house’s beloved fish were gone and when it looked at the blank white wall above the fireplace it realized like never before how much it loved Teddy Roosevelt. When the lights were turned out for the last time, the house was empty, alone in the dark and the quiet with its uncertainty and its memories. Its shutters shuttered closed.

In the following days, the man in the white hat brought several different people to see the house and the house realized someone new would want to make it a home. “But I’ll never have a family again like the one I had,” the house said sadly to itself.

The house hated the echoey sound of being empty until one time the echo of a comment from a couple caught the house’s attention. It heard a lady say, “Aaron, Cole and Ollie would love this backyard.”

Realizing that backyards are loved by kids, the house dared to dream. “Aaron, Cole and Ollie,” the house wondered. “They must be boys.” I wonder how old they are. Boys might be fun.”

But nothing happened and nothing changed for the house. It sat empty and quiet, and days and weeks went by until the school year came to an end. Then, just 10 days into summer vacation, the house heard voices coming from its front yard. “Wait until you see the backyard, Cole,” a man said. The house remembered hearing the name Cole before and was thrilled to see Cole was a little boy. “When are Mom and Arron and Ollie going to get here, Dad?” Cole asked.

“Should be anytime now,” the man replied. “they’re as excited as we are to get to their new home.”

The house gasped and its shutters opened wide. “Did the man say home? Am I going to be a home again? Somebody please pinch my siding.”

“Here they are now,” the man said as a car and a big moving van pulled up in front of the house. “Go show your Mom and Aaron and Ollie their new home, Cole.”

The house was overjoyed at what it understood. “A new family!” it gushed to  itself.  “I’m going to be a home again…with boys! My dream has come true!”

So, the rest of the family began making its way to the front door. Halfway there, the mom turned to the boy named Aaron and said, “Oh, Arron, Ollie is still in the back seat of the car. Will you go help him in, please?

As the house watched, the final member of the family – Ollie – made his way to the front door. And when Cole called Ollie by name, the house realized that not just had his dream come true, but his wildest dream had just come true.

For Ollie was a Collie, and at long last the house became a home with a dog.

A feeling of supreme joy filled every square foot of the house. Excited as possible, it could not wait for the days to come. So, the movers began bringing everything inside and the house watched Ollie, Aaron, and Cole playing in the backyard.

A beautiful, large, framed color family photo was placed above the fireplace showing the family at Devil’s Tower National Monument in Wyoming. Smaller framed photos from the same area were arranged around the large photo. The family had visited the monument on a summer vacation the year before.

After gazing at the photo arrangement for a few minutes, a wave of unexpected nostalgia came upon the house. It  suddenly remembered that Devil’s Tower was named the first ever national monument by none other than – Teddy Roosevelt.

“I’ve come full circle,” the house believed to itself. Pausing with a thankful spirit, the house felt its rafters lift once again as it happily proclaimed: “I’m home!”