Magic Monday: A Story of Home

There wasn’t much left.

I ran past the cop and the firefighters.  Burke was next to me, holding my arm.

Our home was gone.  It was a sad, blackened mess….open to sky.

I remember looking down and seeing a single brick of our little cottage at our feet, and picking it up to hold onto something.

I wanted to hold onto the idea of home.

That was almost two years ago.

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Two days ago, as we were passing through the mountains in snow, this picture came through from Burke….

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It was the brick.

He put it in a place of honor in the middle of our new home.

There is a new story to be told, rooted in the love from the old stories.

The brick.

I had asked him to write something secret on the back of it.   He scrawled our names on the back of the 100 year old brick and put it in the center.

To anyone else who would see it, it’s just an old brick in a floor.

To us, it’s the story of a new beginning….

with an old Friend.

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Our old cottage and us.

For centuries, people have hidden things in their walls as good luck charms. It’s a way to claim a place as your own….to charm it and its inhabitants and all who cross its threshold.

In our new home, hidden in the foundation and in the walls themselves are scrolls that carry the names of people who helped us and sent good wishes. The new home is built on and surrounded by good wishes from people all over the world, some that I know, and some that I will never meet in person – but all of us, friends. The beams under the walls have blessings for our home that Burke and I wrote in marker and the foundation has been scattered with the love herbs I mixed years ago.

The day our foundation was poured, a scroll of love was put in it.

The day our foundation was poured, a scroll of love was put in it.

One of the charms I wrote on a painted board that sits at the peak of the house. You can’t read it from the ground…but if you squint your eyes, my writing looks like pock marks in the wood and nothing more. But we know it’s there, and we know what it says….

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I think of one day, 100 years from now, someone renovating a wall and finding my scrawled hand telling our story underneath.

Thank you for being a part of it.

Some of our friends who came and helped build.

What are some of the ways you’ve made a story in your home? Share in the comments with me…