My little house is in southwest Missouri. I picked it out about six years ago. Something in side of me said that I must have a house bought and paid for before I retired. I did just that. I bought it, and paid for it and now it’s mine and no one can take it away from me unless I don’t pay the taxes on it.
It is in a little town of about nine hundred folks about fifty miles north of Springfield, Missouri. The people that live there for the most part are friendly and not wealthy by any means. They like to visit, sometimes gossip because there is little else to do. There is no movie theatre, no fast food places, however you can get a pizza at the Jump Stop gas station/convenience store.
I liked the location of my little house because it was close to the grocery story, the doctor’s office and I could walk one block to the beauty shop and most of main street, is called Ohio Street.
Years ago, I used to work at one of the nursing homes there, or I would never have known where this little town was. I was transferred with my company from South Dakota to this nursing home; it was there that I met my new best friend; Carole. We have been friends for seventeen years. We laugh together, cry together, fix things together, say really bad words when we shouldn’t, but things like that happen when one is frustrated. I have a picture of me after Carole and I canned one hundred ten quarts of tomatoes. These were not ordinary tomatoes, these had been starved for moisture, so the middle was solid core. This meant that our hands ended up like hamburger from stabbing and poking the core out of the meat of the tomato. We will never do that again.
We have had yard sales together although we swear that we will never do it again, we have made wine, brandy, meals for hungry people and an assortment of things that are for the most part memorable.
Last July I married a wonderful man, and moved to his home and rented my house. I cannot sell my little house. I guess it is a symbol of love and friendship that I felt and always will feel about this town.
During my darkest hours, Carole was always there for me. She sometimes made me see the funny side of despair. When I lost my sight she said we would get a seeing eye dog and we could go anywhere we wanted to, no one could say a word. That made me laugh. Sometimes I feel that the laughter that always seemed to erupt in me, healed me. I also feel that Carole was God’s helper. I am not a public speaker, nor a minister by any means, but I used to say that God played chess with my life. If that analogy is true, God used Carole with a move He made about seventeen years ago and said, “Checkmate,” but I did not lose, I won the game just like He planned.
During my darkest hours, Carole was always there for me. She sometimes made me see the funny side of despair. When I lost my sight she said we would get a seeing eye dog and we could go anywhere we wanted to, no one could say a word. That made me laugh. Sometimes I feel that the laughter that always seemed to erupt in me, healed me. I also feel that Carole was God’s helper. I am not a public speaker, nor a minister by any means, but I used to say that God played chess with my life. If that analogy is true, God used Carole with a move He made about seventeen years ago and said, “Checkmate,” but I did not lose, I won the game just like He planned.
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