Hello dear Home!
- At December 14, 2020
- By Write in Community
- In Blog
20

Tucked In by Gina Barlean
Even now after so many years when I close my eyes, the enchantment of the first home I knew and loved comes into view. Follow the yellow brick road and you’ll see a small, brick farm house with homemade lace curtains that seem to blink hello. Hello dear home! I spent countless hours in a storybook red and white striped barn with a magical playground hayloft. In the summer, deep blue and purple petunias framed the stone front porch where, in early mornings, I would sit and watch the sunrise. Oh, how the translucent rays, so radiant in their soft pink color, were transfixing! And, there I would begin to drift away dreaming of such things as wild horses and dancing cottonwoods. Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do! A friendly greeting from our leghorn rooster would stir me and I would slip back to my bedroom into my special place, and write.
Living in the world.
A warm honeyed glow still spreads through my body when I remember that home. It was a place where all the threads of what I embodied were tied up with a blue ribbon. A place where I was embraced and mostly understood. How much did a girl of ten really know about living in the world? Yes, I knew family love, the small and big joys of a pony nearby, an oriole’s sweet song outside my window. But sometimes I felt small in the big world.
Back then, any time I would feel adrift, I’d ask my father to light a bonfire and we’d huddle around the warmth sharing family stories that uplifted me, gave me courage and hope on how to take the next step forward. I needed to hear those legacy stories, how brave and, sometimes heroic, my grandparents and extended family were. I know how they struggled—I saw my grandfather’s gnarled hands—and, yet, they somehow held on to what mattered.
Finding home again.
Today I feel a renewed sense of hope and promise knowing that, soon, the broken heart of the world will be mended. And we’ll be safe and well again. The world will be defined in a kinder way, rotating in an orbit of healing and recovery. When promises for better and healthier communities will evolve and folks will come together and find their places with each other. When bonfires will be lit and we’ll all be gathered sitting close, watching the flames, sharing stories.
To me, it will feel like hello dear home! It will be one of those illuminating sunrises from long ago. The radiant light from scientists, healthcare workers and others will be transfixing and I’ll be able to dream. All the amazing abundance and charity the world has to offer—they will rise again. —Becky Breed.
Writing/Creativity Exercise:
- Read “I Come Home Wanting to Touch Everyone” by Stephen Dunn. Create a list of ten words that describe what your home or a favorite place means to you. If you’d rather, create a home of your dreams. What would it feel and look like? Or, write a letter to your favorite place highlighting what you miss. Read “Letter to N.Y.” by Elizabeth Bishop.
- Try experimenting with a different medium than you usually use. If you don’t paint, try your hand with water colors or acrylic. Or, consider creating a collage of words and images using letters and cutouts depicting home from magazines and newspapers. Write.
- Now create. Make it special. Make it true.
For more information about Writing in Community and The Writing and Creative Life, see http://www.thewritingandcreativelife.com.
Gina Barlean
Sounds like you had a beautiful childhood. This put me in a lovely place. Thanks for writing!
Write in Community
Your lovely painting was a perfect accompaniment to the post. Thank you for sharing, Gina. Isn’t it often those places that are “tucked in”, off the beaten path, that bring us a sense of intimacy and belonging?
Jan C Bretz
This is beautiful, Becky. You did have an enchanted childhood and the eyes to acknowledge it. I so love the word “home.” Your piece brings me peace and hope–a lovely advent. Thank you.
Write in Community
I’m glad this post brought you peace and hope, Jan. So much is needed in this world.
Lorrie Bryant
Loved this piece, Becky. It took me back to my great grandparents home in rural Nebraska where I enjoyed such happy times and made cherished memories!
Write in Community
So glad, Lorrie, you had a special place, too. Those memorable farm homes AND the people in them were a treasure.
Margaret Walker
Becky, I knew well before I finished the first paragraph that you were the author. It simply shines of “you”.
Like you, “I needed to hear those legacy stories, how brave and, sometimes heroic, my grandparents and extended family were. I know how they struggled—I saw my grandfather’s gnarled hands—and, yet, they somehow held on to what mattered.” Now, I hold on to those stories when I most need solace or hope. I still feel my hand in that of my grandfather as we walked down the path to the barn in the early light of a Blue Ridge Mountain morning.
Thank you.
Write in Community
I can see you now, Margaret, walking with your grandfather catching the early morning light. I’m sure it was memorable for him, too.
Rosanne Liesveld
The beautiful writing here is only matched by the beautiful concept. So much to inspire here!
Write in Community
Hope is like sunrise–it brings us a new day. Thank you, Rosanne.
Mike Stinson
The power of detail exhibited in your writing here, Becky. Something about this “season” can certainly stir memories of “home”. Good exercise to fondly reap some of them, create images, and wrap them in a message of hope.
Write in Community
Thank you, Mike. There is something about thinking of home that brings back promises of the past. It is reassuring in a way.
Marjorie Saiser
Thank you, thank you for this!
Write in Community
Reading your poetry, Marge, often makes me think about home and what is important. I always appreciate your words.
Gale E Breed Jr.
Becky,
Your story took me back to Manhattan, Kansas and the 2 weeks I’d spend with my Grandparents each summer. Their little white house and backyard filled with flowers and sunny days to explore and reflect. Playing cards with grandma and waiting for grandpa to get home from work so we could go fishing. And after dinner we would sit on the front porch swing and enjoy the cool evening breeze as they both did their best to answer all my questions.
Write in Community
I’m glad you thought about your wonderful grandparents. And I bet you had a lot of questions!
Julie Uribe
Becky, you stirred my senses and my soul.
Thank you, friend.
Write in Community
Thank you, Julie. Words are great transporters, they can take us places.
Brian
Good morning Becky,
The “sunrise” in your writing was matched by the picturesque iridescent sunrise we had here in Indiana this morning. Both spectacular!
I grew up on Sunrise Road. Your beautiful composition transported me home. Thank you for taking me there, My home, with love overflowing will always represent the “hope and promise” of great days ahead.
I’m working on a song based on Sunrise Road. Thank you as always for the wonderful inspiration and uplifting message.
Brian
Write in Community
We can be heartened that better days are ahead. I don’t know if it will be a miracle, but, with great relief, a sense of solace is spreading over me.