North State Journal for Sunday, March 6, 2016
№2
Read to me
C7
The Moon’s House
By Samantha Gratton EDITOR’S NOTE
Stories have power. They amuse, enchant, delight, and transport us to another time and place outside of our own. Each week, we invite you to read with us, and with the people you love, to let your imagination run wild and free.
T
HERE once was a house. Now, houses are everywhere and seldom seem special, but this one had something strange about it. It had just the right amount of a force or a draw that could pull you in, but it was hard to explain. On the outside, it had four basic walls made out of simple wood that had cracked and blistered over the years. The white paint had been applied more than once, but still stayed chipped in a rare way. It was beneath the paint, in the slivers of old wood, that would come alive at night. There it sat, but only a few could see the glimmer and glow of something more. Streaks of color that shone and soared in the night. Was it blue, was it green? Did it sparkle, did it gleam? How could mere words describe such a scene? But that’s just the thing. Words could not describe it. No words would or could ever be spoken about such a place. You see, for some it was sad--a tragic time and story to unfold. To them, this tiny quaint house was nothing more than a broken down shack. Stuck in the middle of a vast land of darkness, it was hard to see how good could be found in this small little home. Fuzzy dark swirls and small windows of dreams were what they could see before suddenly all was gone and lost in the night. Tears and trials that left no room for explanation. Without seeing the beauty of the glowing light in the cracks, this house merely felt distant and cold. But every year, a few special children saw this howuse from afar. Instead of a lonely sad shack, they saw vitality and excitement. It was the promise of fantastic adventure that pulled them toward this house on the moon until they could fight it no more. Filled with wonder and awe, they lept up and away. Floating with glee, they kept climbing higher and higher until they landed where they would stay.
ILLUSTRATION FOR THE NORTH STATE JOURNAL | AMY RICHARDS
Up there on the moon that tiny old house sat and shined in the night. Just as they thought, it was so much more than four walls and cracked paint. All around there were places to run and leap and explore. A forest of moon beams and craters of cookies were among a few of the features they would soon find. In the peace and tranquility of all that embraced them, their hearts would both jump for joy and whisper with content. A safe haven of sorts, and a beautiful adventure to boot. It was almost magical with plenty of space for hopes and dreams, dancing and delight. No trials or tears, only pure joy. Each and every inquisitive child couldn’t help but love this house with all of their might. What was once the moon’s house, was lovingly shared and became theirs, too. Well taken care of and shielded from the darkness, these children finally had somewhere
to call home. It glowed in the darkness, and that light shone bright. There’s a reason you’ve never heard of the moon’s house before now. With never the need to cry in the night or the proper words to describe the whimsy, these children simply keep quiet. So, the house just twinkles with glory, a story never fully told. Like so many tales, the whole truth is hard to find. What we thought was plain, old, and full of sadness, we now know is instead a beautiful place filled with triumph and jubilee. Of course there’s more to it than this, but even I cannot tell you for I simply don’t know. Back on Earth, people like you and I can never experience this house on the moon. But we might just see its reflection on a cool brisk night. It will not grant your wishes or diminish all fears, but it can serve as a reminder of all that is right.
NEXT WEEKEND in the good life Travels with George
Warren Bingham joins us for Sunday stories to share a taste of President George Washington’s 1791 tour of Southern states including his trip through North Carolina.
The Albemarle School Come with us to Northeastern North Carolina for the second installment of our arts series on The Albemarle School of painters.
Mmmmm ... catfish!
We travel to Ayden to go On the Line with Jim Connell of Carolinas Classic Catfish.