Havens of the Heart

My first home was my grandparents’chicken farm. I have many fond memories there: baby chicks in the pantry incubator, finding a treasure of old paper dolls in the shed out back, and the huge fig tree that provided a shady place to make mud pies with my cousins. But my “home sweet home” is the little cottage my husband and I share in our retirement.

We lived in a big Victorian, across the street from our neighbor, a widow whom we had become wonderful friends with over the years. When Betty heard we would have to downsize in order to retire, she couldn’t bear the thought of us leaving