Positive Press

I saw an empty lot in a mobile home park today. The resident had moved, and the old home carted away. I saw the small footprint of the empty living space, and wondered how so much life was lived in such a small space.

I thought of two to three bedrooms, with people sleeping, a bathroom for its’ use and the livingroom and of cooking in the kitchen.

Peering at the concrete space where the home had been for decades, and realized my own home is small, but contains thousands of stories, lives being lived, joy and pathos, and the every day grind.

When you look at a house, you might notice its beauty or a blemish, the cars parked there, the look of the paint, and see people in the windows or outside, but there is so much life, in every little box, every huge mansion, and we will never know them all.