A place from your past or childhood, one that you’re fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial.
If I have to scan my brain right now and think of a place from my past or childhood that I am really fond of probably that would be my grandparents’ house in the province. It served as a place of refuge for me and my family. Many times we visited and stayed in their place to take shelter from my parents’ fights, my relatives’ rebuke, etc. Never did they turn our backs on us. Lovingly, they’d welcome us to their warm and cozy home. They had a huge wooden house. It was like an ancestral house actually. They had a wide front yard and backyard that for many times my siblings and I fought as to which part of the house and yards we wanted to clean. On rare occasions, we’d be allowed to play with our friends outside the house but most of the time we could only play within the fences. We were not allowed to step outside of the gate without adult supervision. 🙂 Try growing up with four to five adults in the house and you’d understand!^^ So most of my childhood days were spent within my grandparents’ property. We were allowed to bring friends home though and I can still vividly remember the times I invited my entire class for sleepovers. Best days ever! My family would have me and my girl friends sleep in the living room while the boys will be sleeping in the kitchen. We used mats made of leaves or rattan straws and of course mosquito nets were present too.
Time came that I had to move to a boarding school but I’d still find time visit them. My grandmother would prepare native delicacies whenever I’d come while my grandfather would make it a point that I lead out in family worships or even church worships.
I haven’t been home for many years now. I regret the fact that I let my adventurous spirit take me to different places on holidays other than visiting them. I wish I visited them more often. I wish I realized that they’re getting old and that they can’t be there for us forever.
They’re both gone now. My grandfather just passed away last Friday. He was 89. I believe with all my heart that he’s lived a good, full life. Everyone who knows him describes him as God-fearing, intelligent, and kind. He was very generous to all kinds of people. His home has been a shelter to many, many people. I cannot count how many people he helped. I know for certain that he’s going to be among those people who will be resurrected first when Jesus comes again. I am very helpful that I’d be able to see him again.
Now, the house still stands. I don’t know what will happen to it but I know that whatever happens it will always be the place where I met God, learned about the Bible, and dreamt about becoming a missionary.
May God continue to bless my family and yours too!^^