Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Home...

I got the book, "A Little House Reader, A collection of Writings by Laura Ingalls Wilder", out of the library.  As I was reading through it I came upon this poem written by Mary Ingalls.  It really amazes me that when we have our home in order we still continue to complain about it.  I've been known to complain about our small little house, but now that we are displaced for the moment I really miss it a great deal.  The simplicity of living on our own land, growing our own food and eventually raising chickens for eggs. 

The Lord has really shown me SO much during this time.  My Mom had mentioned to me that they wanted to downsize and had thought about us buying their house.  I was SO ready to move right in...5 bedrooms and a ton of space.  Where do we sign??  My husband was not so quick to accept or agree.  I was pretty upset, but that is the reason God made the Husband the head of the marriage.  But since our bathroom incident we have been living in that very house...I'm really not liking living in the village anymore...I loved it as a child.  You have people "noticing" your every move!!  We like to keep to ourselves, and we can not do that here.  We want our home to be a place of quiet peace, you can't have that living on a main road.  I see now that we could not be completely comfortable here!  But Lord did you have to destroy the bathroom to show me that?? LOL! 

Enjoy the poem below!  Who knew Mary was a writer as well.  The book has writings from almost all the Ingalls/Wilder family members.  I'm going to put this book on my wish list of one to add to my book shelf.

The Old Home

The summer sun is shining,
A disk of burnished gold,
For Home my heart is pining
With love of depth untold.
God grant me grace and power,
And grant a shining trail
To speed me home this hour;
O'er mountain, hill and vale.

The prairie rose is blushing
The sun's kiss on her cheek;
The wind with glee is rushing
In merry hide-and-seek.
The tiger lily's stalking
The gaudy goldenrod,
The meadow lark is talking
Of shadows on the sod.

The harvest moon is beaming
And casting silver sheen
Where life is hushed and dreaming
O'er field and meadow green.
The far church bell is ringing
A-calling us to meet,
And join the throng a-singing
Our Saviour's praises sweet.

I long to see the homestead,
With trees a-shading o'er,
With roses in the garden bed
And sunshine on the floor;
The dear ones there a-dwelling
I long again to see,
And something keeps a-telling
A welcome's there for me.

The August sun is shining
A burnished disk of gold
My heart for home is pining-
The home I knew of old.
My sisters and brother
For me are waiting there-
And sweet-faced little mother
With shining silver hair.

~~Mary Ingalls

2 comments:

Humble wife said...

It is kind of nice to live in the house so to speak before you*buy* it. You get the feel of what you do not like.

I am the same way and live far from the city. I live in a canyon with few neighbors and only see about 5 cars a day on the road(that is nearly a half mile from the house) and two of the cars are my sons heading to work and my husband!!

Love the poem by Mary, and it makes me recall somewhere in the Little House series where Laura said Mary was going to write so now perhaps Laura would do that too. I must reread them to find it!

Have a wonderful day!
Jennifer

Stephanie said...

Isn't it funny how what we "want" isn't always what we "want"? We live in the country, I love living in the country but on those long trips to town I really wish I lived closer to town. Then it puts the seed into our heads to sell our house and move closer to the city, but in the back of our heads we know we are exactly where we are suppose to be.