The Best Gifts Imaginable

As I was listening to the radio I heard a song entitled, "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert. She is a country singer and I believe songwriter. The song is about a young woman who would like to go into the house where she grew up and "take a memory" if the present owner is okay with that. The song also reflects back on her childhood.
It's interesting where that song took me: my grandparents house, an old white Victorian home. It was there I have some of the most cherished memories of my childhood. The house was so bright. Big windows with white cafe curtains blowing in the breeze. High white walls that stretched up to an incomprehensible height reaching the ceiling. A beautiful staircase that led to a large landing that overlooked the familiar backyard. That landing was so majestic I was afraid to do anything but walk through it to either set of stairs leading to the second story.
The second story had one bath and five bedrooms. One of the rooms was hidden between two of the rooms by pocket doors. Each room held special memories for me. Watching my grandmother iron in her sewing room. Helping her with the wringer washer on laundry day in the guest room. Sleeping with her when I had a bad dream in her bedroom. Baths that lasted forever because I just loved the water. Running back and forth across the hall for fun.
Downstairs was the kitchen where I'd watch her automatic mixer churn cake batter. It was mesmerizing. All those toys and I loved that mixer the best. The parlor where I set up all my toys in a miniscule village. The nook by the front door that held my toys. The long family/office/dining room. My grandfather's desk that held so many treasures I'd play there for hours.
The backyard was beyond fantastic. A flower garden, clothesline, and screened in porch made it one of the funnest places ever. The back alley snaked around to lead into a residential street. The alley made a little hill that was good for exploring, rolling down and hidden adventures.
I realized as I was listening to this song it wasn't just the house that I held close in my heart. It was the people who lived there. My grandparents were like another set of parents only more relaxed. When I rode my stick horse around the circle of the downstairs no one ever told me to be quiet. I "yee-hawed" as loudly as I could get my voice to well, yee-haw. My grandmother would play the piano with me sitting close and we'd sing. We'd sit in the same big white chair and she'd read "Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes".
I could exhale there. I could always find my favorite cookies there. I felt at home there. And I felt that special grandchild love there. All the houses I lived in with my parents and siblings had their special memories too. But I see now that Grandma and Grandpa's house was extra special for no other reason than it was Grandma and Grandpa's house. God blessed me with wonderful people and a wonderful place to reflect back on. He truly is the Giver of the best gifts imaginable. A family that loved me, beloved memories and that really awesome Son of His.