I just got this in the mail, and came right to the computer screen to copy it, so you can read it. Oh, oh!
The envelope is addressed to Rachael and Partner, at my address.
Inside is a sweet card decorated with hydrangeas (the embossed old-fashioned fancy kind of card), written in an older person’s hand. It reads:
Myself and my family want to thank you from our hearts that you loved our house as much as we did. Your thoughts and your letters made us happy and sad that it didn’t work out. We just want you to know what a wonderful feeling it was to our family that someone loved it almost as much as we all do. Good luck in all you do.
– Little Red House and the Family That Lived There.
It’s from the owners of the house! The house that we thought was for us because we DID love it that much, our wagon-wheel cottage. It makes the owners real, and I’m so happy they wrote — my imagination creates an image of an elderly woman in an assisted-living residence with her children around her – they know that they would have loved to have given us the house, but they had to go with the highest bidder (oh-so-much-higher than we could have ever bid) because they residence is expensive, and little Judy’s going to Dartmouth and is going to cure cancer, and they DO need the money. But they’re happy that someone else saw what they saw. And we did. Isn’t that what matters, in the end?
How lucky and happy we are that they wrote. (I love that she wrote to The Girls, and put Partner on the envelope. Isn’t that nice? The handwriting is over seventy-five if a day. I love that.)