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Illustration from What is the Full Moon Full of

Shulamith Levey Oppenheim

Cricket Stories

Cricket Magazine has graciously allowed me to post this story. Click here to go back to the list of stories.

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"My Old House"

MY OLD HOUSE MISSES ME

My new house is big and full of light.  It has many corners where I curl up, and no one knows where I am.  It has a long smooth banister where I can slide.  It has a great big lawn that leads down to a pond where Daddy and Mommy take me and my brother canoeing.

It has a tall white barn where I keep my bicycle and wagon and my brother keeps his scooter and where my Daddy keeps the lawn mower and my mother keeps her garden tools.  But I know, MY OLD HOUSE MISSES ME!

* * * * *

It misses me running up and down the skinny stairway when I played hide-and-seek on rainy days.  It misses me in my bed where I could look out and see the street lamp shining in.  It misses me climbing the low, spread-out apple tree that shaded my Mom's vegetable and flower beds.  

It misses me painting pictures on my playroom wall, then wiping off the paint and painting new pictures again.  It misses me jumping on the porch where the loose board squeaked.
 

* * * * *

But most of all, it misses me saying, "I love you, silly old house!"

* * * * *

My daughter-in-law, Layne, shared this with me when they moved.  Micah, then perhaps six or seven, sat on the stone wall of their new home, sighed, and said, "My old house misses me, Mom."

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