after dinner on my birthday

Walking around the charming neighborhoods of the Park Avenue area with my husband, my kids and my parents I was happy.  The girls walked ahead, arm in arm and I thought, "I am so lucky.  Look at how much they love each other.  I have done something right."  I looked at my parents, holding hands as they walked ahead of me, a sign of love that has come full circle.  I looked at all of the houses -- beautiful, big ones, some mansions.  I admired the various architectures, colors, old stone fences, magestic trees, patina details, and beautiful gardens.  Each one so lovingly cared for.  Still I wondered, what makes a house a home?  I have thought about this a lot over the years, as before I started blogging, we moved a few times, and lived in different homes.  I have realized it's the people inside that make a house a home.  It's not the place, but the love.  The love makes a home.