My brother sent me some pictures of the house we grew up in and our parents lived there after we were all gone. It looks so different in the front but I’m glad someone is fixing it up because there were a lot of things wrong with it. Inside and out. They put in a big driveway and now have a short border around the property made of stone. The person my parents rented the house from right after I was born was found on the front step of the house in a basket. He was an infant and the people who lived in the house eventually adopted him. What an incredible story, someone who gave birth to him gave him a chance at another life, possibly a better life. There was an article in the newspaper when this man died, telling the story of him being adopted by the family who found him on their doorstep. My parents eventually bought the house from the man who was adopted. I remember them telling the story often of him being found on the doorstep. What a beautiful story.
Jane is a Widow 