Home Is the Imprint of Heaven

We build houses to provide cozy shelter for the parts of the world that are essential to our personal happiness. What is fundamental to people ranges from bed linens and grandma’s old apron to a child’s baby clothes that still sit on shelves in rooms long since vacated. We need to look beyond the objects and pieces of furniture people often accumulate—and to cast one’s gaze on the people around us who are often in our homes, such as partners, children, sometimes parents, grandparents, neighbors, or friends.

One should not forget the plants on the balcony, lovingly cared for, or the pets that eagerly await their owners’ return. Memories and dreams also belong to our home, along with the unseen. It is the “museum of our ego.” No matter how enjoyable a holiday trip may be, people have to return home sooner or later. We can only inhabit this planet because of a home. A home is much more than where you pitch your tent. It’s a place to return to; a reliable shelter. People travel, but what is most familiar is what awaits them at home.

Home is where love resides, and love is the most beautiful feeling. What is said has already been said. Words are for books; deeds prove nothing unless witnessed by the heart. Pain reminds us of where we belong, when I say once more, “I love you.” You will fold into my arms. Home at last.

Blessing dear friends,