Discussion[]
What makes you feel more at home? What do you think belongs on the What makes a place a home? page. If you'd like to have a more interactive conversation about this, see Forum:What makes a place seem more like home? (Please sign your posts on discussion and forum pages. -- CocoaZen 17:01, November 28, 2009 (UTC))
Hope chest[]
This may not be the right section for this comment but I really wanted to share my thoughts, so please feel free to clean this up ;)
I firmly believe the cornerstone of a home is the hope chest, usually belonging to the matron of the home, usually given to her by her father as a coming of age gift, or the husband as a wedding gift. She stores her memories and momentos in it and thereby, makes it an emotional anchor that establishes the dwelling as more than just a residence, but an actual home. It holds things she cherishes and hopes for, wedding photos, the childrens pictures, little odd bits of thier baby clothes, and other more personal things. If there was a catastrophic event, like a wild fire or an earthquake or tornado, this would rank as one of the most emotionally emportant items to preserve. A dining table is also very important element in a home, in building that sense of home because its where one shares food with those they care about, talks over issues and does the household finances, at least early on. But in a fire the table wouldn't be saved because while it serves a purpose, it by itself is not as important as what it provides, community. Counters, fridgerators, dining sets, all kitchen and dining paraphinallia are important and can even be emotionally charged, especially if its an herloom, but in the end they are all just tools to help us express our love and affection for one another. When one is homeless, their clothes, their plates and forks, their linens are needful, practical items, but can be parted with, hewed down to the bare neccesities. But the idea of a hope chest, even if in reality its only a shoebox, a collection of your fathers love letters to your mom, or little nick-nacks your sweetheart gave you, or the clothes you bought your child that never came, that is what you keep closest to your heart, what you will fight to keep, to pass on as your legacy. It is said that elephants return to the gravesite of their loved ones, long after they have passed, and they will rub their trunks along the bleached white skulls, almost as if they can remember those that passed, and miss them. We do not carry our dead with us, but we hold their memories inside our spirits, and the little things that we feel most close to will be cherished by the ones we leave behind. It is in collecting and protecting our memories, our spirits, that we define where our homes are.
I hope that makes some sense.174.18.44.236 23:46, November 14, 2011 (UTC)
- Thanks! This is a fine place to add this comment. I probably will add some of the ideas you've shared here to the more prominent page. What makes a place a home? You're welcome to do that too -- or to improve whatever I put there. There's also a page on hope chests. Glad to have your input! It's a great perspective on the relative values of, say an expensive table, and a cherished set of love letters. -- CocoaZen 23:31, November 14, 2011 (UTC)
signature, but no note from... 68.84.201.8 06:47, November 14, 2011 (UTC)