right next to the sink where i see it when i wash the dishes.  my boys found it in the brush that’s by our house.  i’ve left it just as it was when they brought it in.  it pierces my heart each time i look at it.

you see, we got an amazing deal on this house.  remember back when we wanted this house so badly?  while we were waiting during the bidding process on this house we began to ask questions.  why does it all look so new inside?  why did the people have it foreclosed on?  why was it so cheap?  why, when looking inside the walls, are some of the studs brand new and some look like they have water damage?

it’s a small town.  and people ’round here are more than willin’ to talk.  most of the questions we had, were answered before they were even asked. 

there was a young family with several very small children.  not unlike our own.  who had a house fire.  and the inside burnt out.  they were not wealthy.  not unlike us.  and so, were rebuilding a little at a time.  and then one of their children got sick.  very sick.  and they lost that child.  the details are sketchy - at least for us.  the most i know is that the phone guy said, when he was hooking up our new line, “yeah, that littl’un of theirs wasn’t any higher than that one there of yours.” - pointing to my girl when she was not quite 2. 

and then all gossip stops.  the family lost the house.  did they walk away?  did they struggle to keep it right up to the end?  i don’t know.  i was told that they lived right down the road from us in a duplex.  they had to pass by everyday to get into town.  do they still live there?  do they watch my children playing in the yard?  do they harbor ill feelings toward us?  the young family with several small children, not unlike them, who are living in their dream home? 

there were a few remnants here and there from their life in this house.  we found some returned checks in the kitchen cabinet.  and they were Bible verse checks.  something about that gives me pause, as i think about their values, that seem to be not unlike ours.  and there are still parts of toys that will surface from time to time in the yard.  just the other day we found a melted plastic blob.  melted beyond recognition.  once there was a toddler toothbrush.  while we were exploring the brush behind the house we came upon what was left of a burnt mattress.  a crib mattress.

there’ve been blackened glass candles.  not unlike the kind i buy.  there’ve been soda bottles and the framing for a vanity that once sat in someone’s room. 

and there was this.  the broken, dirty, blackened nativity.  that was once unpacked for Christmastime.  and it makes me sad.  brokenhearted for this family i don’t know.  it sobers me.  that nothing is for certain.  it humbles me that i don’t have it as bad as i sometimes think.  it keeps me grounded.  that no matter how motivated i am, i don’t control my destiny.  and it gives me hope.  that this family might lean not on their own understanding, but that they would be reminded that this baby who’s likeness was cast in ceramics came to give them a hope that is not bound on this earth. 

and so it sits by my kitchen sink.  for those rare times in our wildly chaotic house when i have uninterrupted time washing dishes.  i pray.  for this family.  as often as i think of them.