The green house

Last week some of us posted pic.of our houses and homes. It reminded me of how our family always referred to the houses we lived as we were growing up by color. The red house or the white house ect....
So today I'm writting a story about the green house and the memories it holds for me.I don't remember how old I was when we moved in there.I know it was before I started school.My Mom had recently married my 2nd stepfather and we were all a happy family.My stepdad was a little strict, but where he was strict my mother was loving and adoring.
The house was fairly small my sister and I shared a bedroom off the kitchen so I always woke up to breakfast cooking or coffee brewing or some wonderful smell.
The house sat at the end of a long driveway (or aleast it was to me then) and we had lots of trees. We had real good clibming trees.I remember on more than one occasion getting stuck up torwards the top of a huge pine tree. We had plum trees they were great for clibming too.And I'm sure I ate myself sick on them many times.I was pretty much a tomboy .I loved playing out side even in the winter.
I have alot of good memories from that time in my life. My little sister was born, I remember carrying her around the telling everyone she was mine. She even slept with me,I could always put her to sleep.
I remember Mom making me feel special, like when I wanted to be a ballerina she went to the goodwill and found me a costume.She took me out side and we danced she told me she only had one picture left in the camera and she wanted to take one of me. So there I was on the front porch all cute as can be. Innocent and fresh life was good.
I started school and did the normal kid thing blue birds,campfire girls and sunday school.I don't remember the exact year . But our house burnt down and we lost everything. My mom came to pick us up from school and tell us what happened .All the things I treasured were gone my bed , my doll,and all the little notes and things little girls thought were importain .
But the up side to this was , by the time school was out that day people started bringing things to the school. Clothes and toys and pots and pans and things we needed to start over.This was when I realized that we were a part of a community. I think that is why I love small towns so much today.
Of course the story goes on and innocents was lost. And lessons learned but to this day there is still a little ballerina sitting on the front porch of the green house.