The writer Thomas Wolfe wrote eloquently You Can't Go Home Again. It certainly has some truth; however, the places you have been and the people you knew are hard to leave--they keep hanging on like shreds of cloth on barbed wire fences. -----I go home again when I see the old antique Singer sewing machine on my porch. My mother used it to make all our clothes until she began working in a clothing store, and we could afford to buy them. I go home again when I open a drawer and find my dad's old hammer, stained, chipped and dirty. He used it to build closests in my room in the old unfinished house we bought when I was in the fourth grade. I go home again when I see the beaded bag from the 20's handing on my mirror in the bedroom. I don't know why I never asked my mother why she had it or where and when she carried it. I go home again when Iopen the cabinet and see the heavy white beaded bowl we always used on Christmas for fruit salad. We should go home again in memory beause home and its people shaped who we are------Thank you God for all the sweet memories of home and the promise of an even better home to come.
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