When my parents gave me an old one-bedroom apartment, I was weeping with happiness. It was a blank canvas, and I poured my heart into it, doing the repairs myself to make it as cozy as possible, with my dad right there helping me every step of the way.
Finally, when the last of the work was done and the place felt perfect, I ran out to the stairwell to chat with a neighbor, completely forgetting to close the door behind me. I was only away for five minutes, but when I stepped back inside, I stopped in my tracks.
The neighbor’s cat had already wandered in and settled comfortably on my new sofa. Seeing it curled up there felt so right; even the cat seemed to appreciate my new nest. Not everyone will understand, but in that moment, the house finally felt like a home.
