Pride in Place

Everyone, young or old feels a bit of pride when they fix up, clean up or gain a place of their own. My friends burst with pride in their new place. They had spent years living in a humble, older home until their finances made it possible for them to afford a brand new home with all new furniture. Bursting with pride they invited everyone they knew, “Come to our open house and see our place.” We went, toured and complimented them on their new spacious kitchen, living room, dedicated laundry and wooden deck.As kids, my girl cousins and I built a picnic spot in the dry creek bed using the biggest flat rocks we could lift from the creekbed. We all hoisted a huge flat rock onto a pedestal of rocks to make a table that we surrounded it with a wall of rocks for seating. With our picnic spot completed, we begged Dad, “Come see what we made!”He came, looked and saw that wall of rocks in the creekbed. He remembered it the next spring when our unintentional dam diverted water from spring rains into the adjoining field. He tore apart our stone fort. Still, more than decades later, I still feel the satisfaction of having built our own place.A new acquaintance reflected that same satisfaction last summer. We took him home after lunch. As we approached his apartment, he said, “Do you want to come see my apartment? I have lived here for 30 years.”We felt a bit awkward, Hubby and I agreed and followed him. We walked up the neatly swept sidewalk lined with carefully chosen items. Inside the short hallway I noticed his small laundry with one bottle of detergent. His simple kitchen seated two. The L-shaped living room and dining area had no wall decor, but he proudly pointed out his mother’s framed cross stitch sitting on the floor leaning up against the wall. After a recent move into an assisted living facility, a relative showed off his one room, explaining that rules forbade putting anything on the walls. That didn’t matter to him, he proudly invited us in. He wanted us to see his space, with the qualification, “if you come bring a couple of chairs. I only have a bed and one chair.” We found two captain chairs at a thrift shop. We gave him the chairs. He gave us pizza. We ate as he went around the room saying, “Look at my TV. They gave me this nice comforter, table and lamp.” His pride in place showed on his face with each item. Just as the kindergarten twins’ faces glowed as they showed me their bedroom. They had waited patiently through supper as the adults talked. They waited through the clearing of the table. Finally one said to me, “Come see our room!” “You want me to go see your room?” I asked. “Yes. Come,” the other grabbed my arm and pulled. His brother headed for the stairs leading the way. I grabbed the metal railing and climbed the steep, open stairs. Both ran before me to their room’s door and grinned widely. “We have a bunk bed.”They stepped inside the room and stood their grinning broadly as I acknowledged they had a bed and dresser. They had no concern about the scattering of toys and clothes. It was their space, and they were so proud. Whether a shared bedroom, an efficiency apartment, a one room unit with a bath, a kid’s fort or a family’s new house, pride in place compelled each to invite others to “come and see my place.”