A Funny Story

I know this picture was just on my blog a short while ago, but it goes with the story I am about to share with you.
Sometimes life is more interesting than fiction. Today Melanie came home from work with a story to tell.
She had me sit down in the living room while she retold the events that took place.
It seems someone came into her store to buy something and she had to take the mans address. She saw the address and commented that she too lived in that town. He said he had lived there for about a year and really liked it and then he told her about this house in the town that he loved. Said it was a Thomas Kincaid sort of house and someday he was going to own it. He had to own it at some point in life as he loves it so much. He told her about how he drives past it every day and it seems they plant more flowers all the time and its so neat and tidy and how they have trees growing everywhere. Said the house was just a perfect country home. He has even asked people in the community about this house. He then told Melanie it was a yellow house and named the street. He said it has pine trees out front and she just started to laugh. He said he had heard that the people lived there for over 20 years. She said, "no just about 13 years." He asked, "how do you know?" "Well, its my parents house and I live there and it will never be for sale. When they die, its going to be mine." He looked so shocked to find out he was talking about her house and was a bit embarrassed since he was so sure he was going to OWN it some day.
He told her it was just a house that made you want to live there. A house that was a home. The true Thomas Kincaid house. He went out the store and came right back in. He saw her car and said, "yup, that's the car I see parked outside that house." He went away sighing.
Whenever I have thoughts about wishing the house was this or that, I am going to think of this funny story and remember just how sweet a house it is.

The Little Home
Edgar A. Guest
The little house is not too small
To shelter friends who come to call.
Though low the roof and small its space
It holds the Lord's abounding grace,
And every simple room may be
Endowed with happy memory.
The little house, severely plain,
A wealth of beauty may contain.
Within it those who dwell may find
High faith which makes for peace of mind,
And that sweet understanding which
Can make the poorest cottage rich.
The little house can hold all things
From which the soul's contentment springs.'
Tis not too small for love to grow,
For all the joys that mortals know,
For mirth and song and that delight
Which make the humblest dwelling bright.