Where I'm From

'Where I'm from

Illuminated lanterns glow

They never flicker

When storm winds blow

The scent of cedar

The taste of citrus on my tongue

The sound of silence

All feel like home

I can see it in the eyes of my son and the eyes of my daughter

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

The lost and broken sing along

In every language

A sacred song

I can hear it in the voice of a mother

And the cries of her child

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Here I labor on in the holy walk

Find myself on the threshing floor

Praying somebody will stay with me

While I'm in pain in between

Looking for light at the breaking of day

Somebody stay with me

Where I'm from

I've stood outside these gates before

Trying to listen

And hear a voice

I can feel it in the middle of the rain

And the warmth of a fire

I can feel it when my heart starts to break

I was born to desire

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from'

These were the words Leslie read on the script for 'Where I'm From' written by Caleb Chapman. Inside of her a desire suddenly flamed to return to the place of her childhood, the place she had once called home. A twinge of guilt stabbed at her. If she was ever going to return to her family again, that would mean opening up the door to let her past back in. She would have to deal with everything she had ever done wrong.

And she couldn't do that.

She had done too much. There was no way she could ever restore those happy memories that should have been. Because of her, now they were all lost.

She remembered the last time she had been with her entire family. Five years ago, newly turned eighteen, at the Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone had been laughing and giving thanks over so many things. Then she had made the announcement that she was going to marry Greg Collins, the least liked guy by the entire family. And now she had done so, and she had discovered that he was a thief.

There was no way she could ever fix her actions or be forgiven by the family. But the call of the chilly winter wind rustling through the cedars and the taste of a Christmas orange beckoned her back.

She would return to Vermont.

______________________________________________________

Leslie left the next day. A feeling of apprehension stirred up inside as she disembarked her car and walked up the snowy path to her parents' cabin.

She shivered in the cold. Beautiful snowflakes flickered down from the sky, landing on her nose and making her sneeze. She hurried a little faster, even though she was having second thoughts.

Suddenly the cabin was in sight and she heard Baby James crying and his mother, Leslie's older sister Sarah, soothing him. While Leslie had never met James, she had seen pictures of him posted on Instagram. Lanterns glowed from the cabins windows, causing Leslie to smile and wonder if Caleb Chapman had also been from Vermont. Her story must be rather similar to his in some ways.

Sarah saw Leslie and her green eyes widened. "Mama! Mama!" she shouted. "You're never going to believe this!"

And then Leslie was at the door and her mother was right behind it. Merely separated by a screen, they stared at each other. Then Leslie's mother burst into tears and opening the screen door, wrapped her daughter in a tender hug.

"I knew you'd come home," she said. "I just knew it. Welcome home, Leslie Grace. Welcome home."

Then her father and all of her siblings, including one little sister she had never met, and all her nieces and nephews she had never known, came rushing to see her. Leslie cried as she met them all.

"Thanksgiving dinner is ready," her mother announced. "And I can say one thing for sure that I'm already thankful for. I'm thankful that Leslie is home."

Her entire family agreed and kept giving her hugs and saying how glad they were that she was home for Thanksgiving. Leslie couldn't stop her tears from coming as she considered how much grace they were giving her. She knew without a doubt that she was forgiven.

And then her father turned to her with a twinkle in his eye. Grinning through his long rough beard he asked the one question Leslie had been hoping for: "Are you coming?"

'Where I'm from

Illuminated lanterns glow

They never flicker

When storm winds blow

The scent of cedar

The taste of citrus on my tongue

The sound of silence

All feel like home

I can see it in the eyes of my son and the eyes of my daughter

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

The lost and broken sing along

In every language

A sacred song

I can hear it in the voice of a mother

And the cries of her child

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Here I labor on in the holy walk

Find myself on the threshing floor

Praying somebody will stay with me

While I'm in pain in between

Looking for light at the breaking of day

Somebody stay with me

Where I'm from

I've stood outside these gates before

Trying to listen

And hear a voice

I can feel it in the middle of the rain

And the warmth of a fire

I can feel it when my heart starts to break

I was born to desire

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from

Where I'm from'

Note: This story was not written nor ever intended to receive any amount of likes. I merely wrote it because I was trying to express what I feel like the song "Where I'm From" is saying. It's just a sweet story where a young woman finds forgiveness in her family.