The House that Hope Built

The Goodbye Baby

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all.
-Emily Dickinson

We adoptees sometimes have trouble feeling at home in the world. One

solution is being open to finding new “homes away from home.” This summer, as a result of joining a community garden, I’ve “adopted” a rambling city park called Frenchy’s Field. Even though I live in another section of town, I drive to Frenchy’s at least twice a week. My day to water the garden is Saturday. On Thursday, I meet with fellow gardeners at 8 a.m. We water, weed, and harvest our three garden plots.
I’m fascinated by the place’s history. The park was named after the crusty farmer who farmed that very land. Bernard “Frenchy” Parachou, a veteran of WWI, operated Sunshine Dairy from 1933 through 1983.
The…

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