A precious possession.

A short story... 2 to 3 min. read... A story about what word home means...

An old woman was lying in her bed narrating a story to a little boy all curled up in her arms. 

Once upon a time there lived a man and woman made a beautiful home together for them and soon welcomed their only child, a sweet little girl. They were one happy family.

Time passed and the girl grew into a beautiful young lady and left the city in search of her dreams where she found the love of her life and got settled.

The man and woman were happy to see their only daughter living her life contentedly.

Now the man and woman were no longer young so they spent most of their time in their home and soon the man got ill and went to heaven after that the woman lived all alone in the house.

One day a phone bell rang. It was woman's daughter on the other side who had called to tell her that she was coming with her family for the weekend. She was coming after a long gap as she lived far far away.

Soon the daughter told the woman that she miss her terribly and is worried about her deteriorating health and wants her to come and live with her. The woman was happy to know that her daughter cared about her so much that she does not want her to be alone. So she agreed. 

The daughter placed a signboard "On Sale" in front of the house.

The woman didn't say anything as she knew it was the only way as no one was there to take care of the house after she left.

On her last day in the house, she was in neighbourhood to say goodbye to all her friends who have been the support base for years, who were more like family. 

When she returned towards her house and opened the gate of the house the flashbacks started coming in.

The small garden which has witnessed every season. The main door which welcomed everyone. The corridor through which a newly wedded entered into a new world in her husband's arms. The living room which was full of family and friends on festivals. The kitchen where many recipes went silently into the dustbin and some were half eaten in the cooking pan itself. The stairs on which a man climbed followed by a woman with a baby in her hands, the side wall which was more of a time line that showcased memories, making way towards the first room which was full of energy, the vibrant colours and the freshness that brought smile on the face and underneath the tent lying in the corner of the room, smiled a girl with a tooth missing. The next room which saw many phases of life and all mixed moments and there also lied a chair in which the man of the house spent his last days witnessing sunrises and sunsets. After that the house went silent. 

Next day the old woman left with her daughter, son-in-law and grandson. 

"Granny, what kind of story is this", the boy asked the old woman.

The old woman smiled and said, "This is not a fairy tale but isn't even less than that."

Now if you see, the house was empty but still full.

The boy was all confused and asked her... "Grandma, How can something be both empty and full. This is practically wrong."

Practically yes... The house is empty physically but not emotionally. It's the emotional value of the house that makes it full. It's full of memories that were created and also of those with whom they were created.

" Gradma, Why did the woman leave if she loved the house so much? Why didn't she tell her daughter? " said the yawning boy.

The old woman looked at the drowsy little boy and  whispered, "Family". She gave him  a good night kiss on his forehead. 

A man and woman stood at the door quietly listening to what the old woman and the boy were talking.

They both entered the room and hugged the old lady. The woman with all teary eyes said, "Sorry Mom... Why didn't you tell me that you didn't want to sell the house...We wanted you to be with us and be happy but we did a terrible thing."

The old woman gently rubbed the tears off her face and patted on man's shoulder and said, "That house is all yours to decide. It will always be in my mind and heart. It's an important part of me but not more than you all...

After your dad it's you who gives me something more than happiness that nothing in the the world does- Hope.

In that house I spent 52 years, I invested my life, tried my best to make a home for us but Home is not the walls... YOU- you are "My Home". Home is where the heart is...

I don't know how much life is left, I am happy to spend rest of my life with my family. The love and respect I see in your eyes, this feeling is my precious possession that I'll take with me to my death bed. "

Next day the signboard went missing.

House still stands tall in good condition obviously not for sale but to welcome everyone who was willing to make further memories.

Regular visitor was a boy who came with his grandmother every now and then... and the house was part of every festivities...

Story didn't end instead saw a new beginning...