Is it possible to be 'drawn' to a certain place? Can your 'sixth sense' take
over and actually lead you to a place where you are supposed to be?
It does seem so. Mary Pritchard found that out upon her retirement...drawn to
a place, and actually to a time that she had experienced before. Mary did find
that perfect retirement home....in Morgantown. It's chapter 4, 'The Mason's mark'
one of 28 stories to be found in Tales Unleashed.
The Mason’s Mark
Mary Pritchard had always wanted to
live in a nice quiet home, one with a front yard, perhaps a porch, maybe even a
large dining room. But as a youngster in the 1950's, she had little choice about
where she would be. Her mother had passed when she was a very young girl.
Mary possessed the one and only
doll that her mother had gifted her on her fourth birthday. Soon after that,
with her mother’s passing, she would have to go live with her Aunt Trudy, her
only known relative. Mary’s father Miles had also passed away very tragically
while on a job near their home in Morgantown. Miles was a master mason . . . a
bricklayer, if you will. His work was beyond compare and Miles had helped build
dozens of homes that were the envy of all who viewed them.
As Mary neared her retirement age,
the call of returning to Morgantown kept coming to mind. And so, a year before
retiring, Mary contacted a number of real estate agents in the Morgantown area
to arrange to look at some homes there. By email, Mary finally had two or three
very nice homes to look at . . . and her excitement grew as she marked two
walk-throughs on her calendar, scheduled on the same weekend.
Meeting the local agent at a small
friendly coffee spot in Morgantown, Mary looked at the information about the
two homes that the agent had laid out in front of her. Both were well-kept
homes, in nice neighborhoods, and each offered the right accommodations for
someone soon to retire. But there was something about 151 Spruce Street that drew
Mary’s attention more than the other property. The front yard was small and
easily maintained, a nicely decorated porch graced the front, and the home was
entirely made of brick. It weathered well over the years and had been
maintained beautifully by its previous owners.
That same afternoon the real estate
gal drove Mary to 151 Spruce. My, it was a lovely home, and even had a picket
fence!
“The price is a bit high,” Mary
exclaimed to the agent as they made their way up the front walk. “Do you think
they might come down a bit?” The agent assured her she would see what could be
done if Mary decided she wanted to buy. The agent gave Mary the quick tour . .
. guiding her along the way from room to room and pointing out the amenities as
they went.
“I must show the basement,” said
the agent. “It has a new furnace, new water heater, cement floor, and it’s
completely dry!”
As the two descended the ten short
steps down, Mary felt a warm sensation, as if someone was welcoming her to this
place. Yet she had never been in this house before. She was sure of that.
As the two gals chatted back and
forth, Mary made her way to the straight and square red chimney on the west
side of the basement. Old it was, but showed no signs of wear or deterioration.
Two bricks up from the basement floor, Mary spotted an irregularity on one
brick’s surface. Squatting down and brushing the dust from the brick she read, MJP, 9-’50. As she touched the brick a
second time, a wave of exhilaration came over her. She knew then and there that
her father Miles James Pritchard had helped build this house, presumably in
September of 1950.
She stood up, turned with tears in
her eyes, and said, “I’m home, I’ll have a check in full for you tomorrow.”
After more than fifty years, Mary
had come home to Morgantown . . . not just a home, but a home that her father
had helped to build for her. A better retirement gift, no one could ever have asked
for.
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