-WINDOWS & DOORS-

 

 Shut, locked and bolted.

 

A carpenter drove by a big old house and he saw...

He saw what others could not see.

A place of singular beauty and beautiful craftsmanship.

He saw a place which could never be duplicated.

She just needed some.... love.

 

The doors were locked and the windows were boarded and the weeds grew tall in the yard.

He picked the locks and went in, and he saw...

He saw that she needed light.

He pried the boards off the windows and tore down the dusty old curtains and let the light in,

and he saw...

 

He saw that someone had loved this place before, but not enough.  He

vowed to love her more...

More than the ones who had created her. More than the ones who had

spent some time there and moved on...

He would love her and make her more beautiful each day until he had

no more of himself to put into her.

 

It would hurt the place when he tore down walls to create open space

and the house would groan when he cut into it...

Sometimes he made mistakes and cut boards too short and had to back up

and start again and do it over and over and over until he got it right.  He did not

mind.  It was part of his love, and the house would wait...

 

He worked and loved and loved and worked until he was too old and his

hands were too gnarled and his eyes began to grow dim and then...

And then he spent the rest of his days loving that perfect place which he had found.

In his eyes, of course,  she had been perfect all along, but he had to love her in his own way, because, after all....

 

he was only a carpenter.