The House By the Tracks

There’s a house out across the creek, just an old rundown two-room shack. Each time I drive out past it now, those memories come flooding back. It’s the house that held my childhood, where all fifteen of us were raised. A loving piece of treasured youth, only a pile of sticks these days. It was a different story, back fifty years or so in time. A hillbilly man and his spouse, lived happily there in their prime. They would fill your empty stomach, though they could barely feed their own. They had never met a stranger, any were welcome in their home. Come warm your body by their fire, talk and sing ‘til your head was clear. Warm your soul with a little wine, warm your heart with friendships held dear. Many people I did not know, they went in and out of that door. When it came time to leave they knew, that kindness is worth living for. That shack is barely standing now, down that dirt path just off the road. But to us it was a mansion, memories more precious than gold. We did not have maids or chauffeurs, we were living a simple life. Each other’s love was all we need, that hillbilly boy and his wife. That hillbilly boy and his wife, they showed us the meaning of life. Love and hope are all you need, if you have that then you’ll succeed.