Today is the day that I have to write a goodbye post to Little Green. I have been dreading this for six months. Honestly, I have so much to say about our tiny house, and at the same time I cannot find the right words to describe what it has meant to me for over two years. I therefore chose to make this a two part post.
Living within Little Green’s four walls has influenced my notions on what it means to be a homeowner. I discovered how to take a small space and turn it into a big one filled with love. I learned to listen to and look at what renovation it needed next rather than what we just wanted. I loved looking after her and keeping up with chores and household duties because that was when she really glowed. I appreciated the fact that I always had a safe place to go to at the end of the day, and one that never gave us troubles of any sort. Inevitably, the neighbourhood that drew us to Little Green was the same one that drove us away from her. If I was able to pick her up and move her to our new property, I would have in a heartbeat. However, she stood in the same spot for eighty-five years, so I figured that it would be best to leave her in the only place that she knew as being home.
I hope that Little Green will continue to flourish with her new homeowners. I have nothing but hope for our Little House.
<3
Emory
P.S. Below are selections from my favourite children’s book. Never has it meant so much to me as is does in my adulthood. Isn’t it funny how that happens?
“The Little House” by Virginia Lee Burton
Once upon a time there was a Little House way out in the country. She was a pretty Little House and she was strong and well built. The man who built her so well said, “This Little House shall never be sold for gold or silver and she will live to see our great-great-grandchildren’s great-great-grandchildren living in her.”
The Little House was very happy as she sat on the hill and watched the countryside around her. She watched the sun rise in the morning and she watched the sun set in the evening. Day followed day, each one a little different from the one before … but the Little House stayed just the same.
One day the Little House was surprised to see a horseless carriage coming down the winding country road … Pretty soon there were more of them on the road and fewer carriages pulled by horses. Pretty soon along came some surveyors and surveyed a line in front of the Little House. Pretty soon along came a steam shovel and dug a road through the hill covered with daisies … Then some trucks came and dumped big stones on the road, then some trucks with little stones, then some trucks with tar and sand, and finally a steam roller came and rolled it all smooth, and the road was done.
More roads were made, and the countryside was divided into lots. More houses and bigger houses … apartment houses and tenement houses … schools … stores … and garages spread over the land and crowded around the Little House. No one wanted to live in her and take care of her any more. She couldn’t be sold for gold or silver, so she just stayed there and watched.
Now it was not so quiet and peaceful at night. Now the lights of the city were bright and very close, and the street lights shone all night. “This must be living in the city,” thought the Little House, and didn’t know whether she liked it or not. She missed the field of daisies and the apple trees dancing in the moonlight.
The Little House was very sad and lonely. Her paint was cracked and dirty … Her windows were broken and her shutters hung crookedly. She looked shabby … though she was just as good a house as ever underneath.
Then one fine morning in Spring along came the great-great-granddaughter of the man who built the Little House so well. She saw the shabby Little House, but she didn’t hurry by. There was something about the Little House that made her stop and look again. She said to her husband, “That Little House looks just like the Little House my grandmother lived in when she was a little girl …
They found out it was the very same house, so they went to the Movers to see if the Little House could be moved. The Movers looked the Little House all over and said, “Sure, this house is as good as ever. She’s built so well we could move her anywhere.” So they jacked up the Little House and put her on wheels …
They tried the Little House here, and they tried her there. Finally they saw a little hill in the middle of a field … and apple trees growing around. “There,” said the the great-great-granddaughter, “that’s just the place.” “Yes, it is,” said the Little House to herself …
As the Little House settled down on her new foundation, she smiled happily. Once again she could watch the sun and moon and stars. Once again she could watch Spring and Summer and Fall and Winter come and go. Once again she was lived in and taken care of …
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Do you have quotes or passages that you turn to for solace?
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