But here's the kicker, and the reason I'm telling this story starting from before we bought the house: before seeing the inside (and thus, before we had reached a true decision to actually pursue the house as one we'd like to own), we named it. This is significant for folk like me and my Paul. I grew up on Anne of Green Gables and the subsequent volumes in the series, and right there in the title of the first story you can see that Anne lived in a time and place where the naming of places mattered. Take a look at the titles of the other Anne books, and you'll have an idea of how the name of a place can reflect its character (and the character of those living in that place):
- Anne of Green Gables (a home)
- Anne of Avonlea (a town)
- Anne of the Island (referring to Prince Edward Island)
- Anne of Windy Poplars (a home)
- Anne's House of Dreams (a home)
- Anne of Ingleside (a home)
- Rainbow Valley (a locale near Ingleside, named thus by Anne's children)
- Rilla of Ingleside (the same home as volume 6; Rilla is Anne's daughter)
As you can see, other than the second and third volumes in the series, every novel is characterized by a place that has been named by its inhabitants. There's something magical about this. As for my husband, if I am someone who absorbed this ethos through the stories I read, Paul just is the kind of person who would want to name his home someday. It's innate to who he is, and one of the things I love deeply about him.
So, last year when we first encountered it, we named the Victorian house we found ourselves utterly enchanted with, without having seen the inside yet. I knew it was emotionally dangerous to do so, since we had no idea if it would ever be our home, and naming the place bound it to our hearts. But, put simply, we just couldn't help ourselves. The house practically named itself, in our view, so calling it by its name in conversation with each other just seemed natural--we couldn't help it, so we didn't bother trying.
Jumping ahead to the present, God blessed us and rewarded our emotional risk of naming the house without knowing it would ever be ours, because it did in fact become our home later that year. We knew from the get-go that we wanted to hang a sign on the front of the house, bearing its proper name, but we also wanted to do it right (and not sloppily), which meant it would take some time to get to.
Which brings me to the true purpose of this post... Paul found the time this week to finally adorn our home with its name, just above the front doors, and I am so smitten by it I simply had to share it.
|Welcome to Greenvale :)|