I removed my three candles from the corner table and set them in a storage bin. I dusted off the table surface before unpacking the boxes of plants. A miniature Madagascar palm. An arrangement of young succulents in a teacup. A prickly cactus. I arranged and rearranged my daughter’s plants in the morning sunlight coming through the eastern window.
“At least we have the plants in place,” I joked with a friend on the phone as I detailed my concern of doubling the number of people under our roof and tripling the number of pets when our daughter, Aleah; her spouse, Todd; and their two-year-old daughter, Juniper, moved in later that day. They would stay with us for several months while their new home was being built. I wondered how our ten-year-old dog, Mollie, would respond to the upheaval of her quiet existence after Herriot and Penelope, their two rambunctious pups, arrived.
“Life is all about finding room,” my friend responded when I joked about having extra adults in the kitchen.
When Aleah and family arrived with their stacks of boxes and suitcases, I couldn’t help but remember how, thirty-five years earlier, my parents had made room for us—me, my husband, and baby son—in our own transitional season. Mom and Dad had welcomed us despite the noisy interruption to their empty-nest lives. They found room.
The first thing Aleah and Todd unpacked was Juniper’s crib so their displaced toddler could have a much-needed nap after waking up at 4:30 a.m. She had sensed her world was about to change. Juniper settled into her familiar bed in an unfamiliar space, surrounded by her lovies and blankets. Within minutes, she was sound asleep in her new room.
Lord, help me to always choose to find room to welcome others into my space, my schedule, and my home.
—Lynne Hartke
