Oh, Provide-ence

We've rented an apartment not unlike the one on St. Rose Street. It's the first floor of a triple-decker, spacious and wide but with the neighboring house an arm's reach from your window. I am grateful for this tidy furnished rental. It has everything we need. And the things it doesn't have, I have easily procured after being here less than two days. I reunited with my old thrifting haunt and easily found 6 white-cotton tab-topped panels for the windows, a hand-thrown pitcher for water, some hand-towels and a few child-sized pieces of flatware.

A furnished living space is like reading someone's facebook profile: reads Octavio Paz, takes Acidophilus, bike-riding and children's artwork are priorities. And what the apartment doesn't have are even more curious to me: are curtains against your religion or something? You have a closet full of propane tanks and yet no cookie sheets? I don't know if I'll ever meet this family we're renting from. There are no photos on the walls or mantles. They live in Manhattan and this is their "country house." She teaches at RISD, judging from the books, I'd say architecture but I'm not sure.

Being here, not in a hotel and yet not at home, I realize what it is that is essential to home for us. If the boys have yarn and legos, they're all set. If Clara has books to flip through, she can pass the minutes. If Calliope has a cup to fill or a bag to pack and unpack, her play will go into motion. If Geoff has his crossword, his Bible and his laptop, he's in good shape. Me-- there are a lot of props to my set, lets' say. Now that there's a cloth on the table and curtains in the strategic windows, I can rest easier. How lavish God's hand always is. Oh, generous hand that always manages to provide!