If these houses could talk then I would really listen to their stories.  I would truly love to know their history.  I find myself compelled to know the details surrounding these houses. 

What happened to the people that belonged to them?  Where did they go and, why did they leave?  The parents grew old and eventually passed away. Perhaps, the children did not want to come back to the little town they had grown up in.  Maybe these houses were sold or just left empty.  Why hasn’t anyone taken the time to repair them?  How come no one lives inside their wall any more? 

    As I write this now, only one house remains.  The other one was torn down and, the ground lies vacant and hollow.  I was sad to see the house destroyed.  I have driven by these houses thousands of times and, I would always watch them looking at me.  Only the earth could tell me now of the events that took place on that land.  The remaining house belongs in my heart and it is mine to keep.  I will pass by with admiration because it still stands after all these years.  Even though it’s hard to understand why this house has remained unlived in. 

 I have to believe that when a family dwelled within its walls, there was love, joy, and compassion. I cannot imagine it any other way.  

   I will probably never know the answers to the questions that I have posed. Still, I will wonder from time to time as I drive by this old, dilapidated house, if it could talk, what secrets would it reveal to me?