The House at the Top of the Hill
by Shanna Anderson
Imagine a charming yellow house with a fresh green lawn and a white picket fence. It's a friendly enough place, with comfortable lawn furniture and a practical and pleasing design. Each day, as you pass the house on your morning walk, you get a welcoming smile and a friendly “hello” from the family within. You even stop to chat a little about the neighbor’s dog that never stops barking, but nothing too unkind is ever said. Often, you see the family coming and going—busy with their day-to-day activities, and, obviously, happy to be residing in the charming house.
The neighborhood people see the yellow house in the same charming way, but they are rarely invited inside. The front door is a pale shade of white, and there is a doorbell button that, when pushed, makes a pleasant ding-dong sound. On some days, the door is not answered. Other days, however, a kind and gentle woman answers the door and welcomes you into her home. There’s a mad flurry of children constantly coming and going, but they all use special doors that no one in the neighborhood is allowed to use. The children all have rainbow colored, little doors that they're free to use whenever they see fit. They're small doors, so they don't make much noise as they burst open and slam shut many times each day. Occasionally, a child will enter through the wrong little door and there will be a small fight between children. The kind woman inside the house soon resolves it, though. The children never have to knock, and they never notice the front door. They come and go as they please.
Then there's the special door. This special door also happens to be a very big, forbidding door. Big enough, in fact, to drive a city bus through. Thankfully, very few people know where to find this door. Because the door is so large, and so difficult to hide, the gentle woman inside the house is very protective of this door. Her guardian husband, in fact, is one of just a few people who know where this door is. The difference with her husband is that he's got both a key and a remote opener for the very big door.
Now, having mentioned that this door is big enough to drive a city bus through, it goes without saying that having a key and a remote comes with a certain amount of responsibility. Most times her husband is kind and sweet, leaving little gifts to show his undying love. Unfortunately, at times, either from exuberance or testosterone, the gentle woman's husband does INDEED drive a city bus through this door. After the dust settles, though, he's careful to clean up the mess and shut the big door behind himself.
Even after all that, the gentle woman never considers shutting him out, without him she'd never grow. And, without exception or regret, she knows in her heart that her bus-driving husband gives her purpose and strength. She knows better than to think her destiny lives in an inescapable place, despite the countless barriers to intrusion. With a wry smile, and a gentle touch, she blows him a kiss. She knows, like him, that every cell needs a door.