Helen's Brick House

Helen's brick house was built by her grandpa James with a specific design in mind: the front black cross-windows riminded one of Christ's sorrows; when the off-white roll shades opened the neighboors saw Helen wearing a rosette on her blouse she herself had created on a foot paddle sewing machine... copying it off a Cosmopolitan magazine. The porch's wood was cracked and faded not a perfect dispay for begonias, amaryllis, hydrangeas and roses that Helen watered on drought days to perserve them, never to be whitered by a lack of rain when the grass yellowed. A staircase led to her bedroom kind of mystique, the queen bed was covered with macabre art linen sheets and had a wrought-iron bedframe almost an antique; often Helen heard whipers of folks who had lived there, and she wondered if it was her imagination or dread: " Dead people are harmelss, only living people harm others! " No garden in that neighbohood was prittier than hers, sweet Alyssum, purple Ageratum, white Alemone growing under Japanese maples and strawberry trees so tempting made it so harmonious and so lively that amazed others; would it been complete without the merry warblings of the canaries,of the mockingbirds and of the wrens? The roof shingles needed replacement, they often fell down on piled logs, and Helen stocked them up neately in a corner to save money later on; her income was kind of low and expensive utility bills kept on coming in, the pension her husband left her was spent on food, not on luxury goods. When rain fell the front lawn and garden became fens able to transform their loveliness, hundreds of leaves were left by the last tropical storm; and Helen was saddened staring at the devastation of the lovely grass, only the day before she got rid of those ugly weeds hiding the wild violets and the crimson clove along the fence where birds built their nests... I can imagine how helpless she felt seeing such devastation in minutes! The faded timber door fought severe winters and they lasted night-long, spring brought pleasant days, it stood open to greet their fragrance; no thief invaded a house protected by good spirits and benevolence, God was there and that made Helen feel at home where she belonged.