I was glued to the television for the weeks following the storm, but none of that prepared me for the first home we walked into. The news broadcasters use the word “house”, but that is inaccurate. Despite the molding walls and busted windows, the feelings of permanence and family lingered. These were homes that people took the time and care to make their own, and having the privilege to help people take the steps toward having their own again was humbling.
More than the loads of rubble, what weighed on me while gutting and what does now is that idea of home. It is easy to take for granted a space you can call your own because it is such an elemental part of all our lives. What an amazing thing to help restore that essential part to someone else’s life.