The Gnome House

I have a terrible sense of direction—the worst I’ve ever encountered.

Before I had access to GPS, it wasn’t unusual to find myself hopelessly lost in a maze of neighborhoods. That’s where I was when I first found The Gnome House. My two daughters and I had been at a park feeding geese and I thought I knew exactly how to get home, but I took a wrong turn somewhere and then lots and lots of random turns after that. I wasn’t worried because we didn’t have any plans that day, we had a full tank of gas, and I knew I’d come to a familiar street eventually.

The Gnome House sat a little ways back from the road in a mossy yard with trees all around. It was nothing like the other houses on any of the surrounding streets. I was certain of this as I’d driven circles around the whole area by the time I ran across it.

“Look at that!” I cried, slowing down so that we could take it all in. Something about the house reminded me of a crop of mushrooms turned into a castle, though it wasn’t especially big. It had an abundance of brick-red trim and too many other unusual elements to mention. It looked secretive somehow. Maybe there weren’t enough windows, or the door was set way back in shadow. Strange that I don’t remember exactly…but I do know that when I first saw it, I immediately thought gnomes should live there, so that’s what I told my daughters.

I continued weaving my way through the area after finding The Gnome House, only to stumble upon it again and again before finally reaching a familiar road that led me back home.

From that day forward for years to come, every summer, on some random, lazy day, I would ask my daughters, “Hey, you know what we should do today? We should get lost on purpose and try to find The Gnome House!”

While they were young, my daughters would happily follow me out to the car, no questions asked. Sometimes it took a long time to find The Gnome House again but eventually we always did. And it always looked slightly different than I remembered, though equally strange and secretive.

By the time my daughters were teenagers, and not nearly so keen to get lost on purpose and find The Gnome House, I bribed them with Starbucks and let them choose the music we listened to as we drove around and around until we found The Gnome House. By this time I had GPS on my phone and my youngest daughter suggested that we drop a pin on The Gnome House so that we’d never have to look for it again. My oldest daughter said we could at least write down the address. She started to call out the street name, and I cried, “No! Don’t say it! I don’t want to know!”

They rolled their eyes, didn’t drop a pin or write down an address, and the tradition remained intact.

Have you ever noticed that you tend to find whatever you spend your days looking for? Sometimes I get in a habit of looking for sad and gloomy things and calling them out. Often I don’t even realize I’ve fallen into that habit until I’m already in it.

But when I remember to look for whatever is good and lovely, I find those things too. It’s important to acknowledge the hard things in life but to always be on the hunt for whatever is good, lovely, hope-filled, and even in some cases…gnome-like.

Blessings to you,

~Amy

P.S. I’m going to be a grandmother in June and when my grandson is old enough to appreciate the wonder of it, I’m planning to get lost on purpose and go find The Gnome House again.