I am a product of...

10/24/16

I am the product of delicate purple crocus buds in the spring and ruddy maple leaves in the fall, of moss covered brick walls and wide double windows, of smooth hardwood floors and bright gingham curtains. My childhood home is the first place I think of when I think of my beginning. I was brought home to a red and white house at the bottom of a hill that held a clear view west to the Hudson River. There was no other time of my life so precious and golden. As a small child, I saw fresh masterpieces every evening when the sun set behind the Palisades.

Early years at home were full of books and music created by each member of my family. Our little library served as a playroom and my imaginative adventures caused the quiet hours to pass in the blink of an eye. The air itself seemed to be full of stories and poems and magnificent places far away. My older brothers played duets on the piano and the melodies of their practice sessions would drift up the stairs and provide a free concert to my mother and I as we went about household chores together.

The house I grew up in was a true home, not for the front garden with a weeping cherry tree or the small back porch looking to the river. It became a home because of the people who lived with me there for the first ten years of my life. Safety and love were extended to me by my parents every single day. They both sacrificed much to give their time to raising me and my brothers in a godly fashion. My mother showed me how to be generous and compassionate to others without expecting anything in return. My father explained to me, in concrete details, how to treat others according to the “Golden Rule” and to use your gifts for the glory of God. His clever puns and laughter comforted me whenever I was feeling sad. My oldest brother, Ernest, lived in a world of songs and I soon realized that music is a way to participate in a type of beauty that is inherently understood by the soul without needing words. My older brother, Timothy, encouraged me to read and visit our local library. He himself spent hours exploring fantastic worlds made of paper and ink. My complicated stories and joyous revelations about the love of God, the promise of eternal life in Heaven, and the purposes of our lives were accepted with smiles and nods by the four of them.

Even if the red house by the river was taken away or destroyed, the memories I treasure from those special days remain clear and untarnished. My family has helped me reach each new step in life and I am thankful for them always. They have influenced my perspective on the world and shaped who I see myself as- a valued member of not only the Chamberlain family but also the family of God. I am a product of the love of the Lord, as shown to me in childhood through the family He placed in my life.