“That’s the old wash house. Our home wasn’t even near to being finished when we came to this hill, so we all moved into the wash house like a troop of gypsies.”
“It was close living, Father, like sardines in a can, but it was the happiest time I ever knew. After a long day at the lumber yard, Papa would draw up to that big fireplace, and Mama would sit an do her sewing, and I would be making doll clothes as hard as I could go.”
“I think living that way got on Mama’s nerves something awful, but when our house was finished and we moved in, I cried. I did. I could have gone right on living in the wash house for the rest of my life.”
from A Light in the Window by Jan Karon
I’ve been reflecting on how happy my daughter is right now. She is not nervously expecting a larger home–she is living in the moment. You guessed it, we’re still waiting to hear from the county and bank and haven’t been able to start on our house, but I am determined not to let this waiting spoil my daughters first summer. She won’t remember living in the bus, but I hope it will live in her subconscious as a warm, safe time.