Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Homemaker

From Nissa Gadbois:
I read an obituary today.  An obituary of a young woman in her 40s.  A single sentence, listing her occupation, leapt from the screen.
She was a homemaker.
It felt so important.  It feels so important.  Because it is.

Making a home is to bring beauty, rhythm, harmony, order and comfort to one’s own family.  And to guests.  It is an act of hospitality – the supreme act of earthly hospitality.

Home is where our security is.  It is where we run to when we have good news to share.  It is the place we long for when we are broken.

Home is a scent, a flavour, a texture.  It is the way the sunlight glints off of the beaded fringe on a lampshade, or how it slants into the room on an early spring morning.  It’s how the kitchen smells on Sunday afternoons.  It’s the squeaky stair – the Number Ten step.

Home is the way the beds were made with hospital corners, and the towels folded just so – and the soft smell of the powder stored in the linen closet.  It is the way that there always seems to be a brownie, or your favourite jam for toast and tea.  Every. Single. Time. (Read entire post.)

1 comment:

Tealady24 said...

How true this is! I like to think my home is a refuge from all of the darkness in the world, even on the brightest of days. Little details are what make my house a home.