Yesterday my parents moved from the home I spent most of my childhood in. As I walked through the house for the last time you would think the empty rooms would have moved me- flooded me with childhood memories- but it didn't. With the sun streaming through the windows it seemed as though even the house was ready for a new beginning- children again running up and down the stairs- slamming the screen door as they run to chase the ice cream truck on a hot summer day- bikes and stollers blocking the car from getting into the garage, tents made out of blankets in the family room. As I walked down the driveway I knew that when ever I put up my Christmas  tree, beautiful pine, cool green scent filling my whole home, I will remember the tree  that stands at the old house- the one my daughter planted with my Dad .It was just a little twigg- my Dad took her outside and they planted it with love-and it grew strong and beautiful just as she did. So when I think of the old house - that is how I will remember it, that it was our OLD HOUSE- and now it is another families NEW HOME. Places we live in are only as special as the people who fill the space. They are your Heart- and where your heart is - that is a place called HOME.