Two houses dwell on the same road not far from where I live.  Glassless windows stare at me as I drive by.  Roofs are caving in from years of neglect and the houses seem very sad.  Their paint is chipped; their frames are gray. How old they are, it’s hard to know but, it has been years since anyone has taken care of them. Grasses grow tall and free within the yards. Weeds are plentiful and grow in great profusion.  Shade trees still adorn the yards supplying the only beauty. 

These houses have remained standing through wind and storm but, they are empty and unloved.  Drab and unkempt, they really are not a pretty sight.  At one time, perhaps, they were very lovely places but, who sees that loveliness now?  Therefore, I cannot help but wonder, if these houses could talk, what would they say?    

What did they look like when they were new?  Were they excited as their families moved in?  What could they tell me about the lives they have lived?         As I travel past these houses, I think about the people that may have belonged to them.  Had there been just one family that occupied their dwellings or were there more?  So many scenarios present themselves to me as I reflect on what used to   be. I can picture the women preparing the meals for their families, and the men coming home tired after a long day on the job. 

The men would greet their wives with a kiss as the children scampered about begging for their fathers’ attention?     If these houses could talk, oh the tales they would tell. They would tell stories of children laughing, games played, and songs sung.  Their walls would recall the tenderness displayed by the fathers’ toward their wives and children. Bedtime stories would be read and goodnight prayers would be said. The children would be tucked into bed with lots of hugs, kisses, tickles and “I love you.”  If each house could talk, perhaps this is what they would say.   

  They would relate all of the good times that each family had and, in somberness tell of the heartaches that took place. There would be tales of misery and pain but the families persevered.  Perhaps the fathers had been in the war.  Maybe one survived and one did not.  One wife welcomed her husband home and, the other wife became a widow.  One wife was thankful her husband was alive while, the other wife faced being a single mother. Still, the one house was filled with love and, this love helped the mother stay strong.