My door opens
At first my world was small. It was only as big as my mother’s arms.
Then my bed and my room became part of my world. One day my mother
carried me to the window. I reached for the sunshine on the window. My
world grew bigger. Soon my home and the things in it were part of my
world. As I grew, my world grew. But my home is still the place where my
day begins and ends.
I know my house so well I can find things in the dark. My sense of touch
tells me, “Brick is rough, tile is smooth, and the cactus in the pot is
prickly.” I
At first my world was small.
It widened as I learned to crawl.
know where the cat sleeps. We have a bell that makes a lovely sound when
I shake it. We even have places filled with odds and ends that make our
home different from any other home.
When I am in my home I am in a special world that I share with my
family. My parents have filled our home with toys, books, pictures, a
radio, a television set, a stove, a refrigerator, and many other things
for us to use and enjoy.
Our home is a private place. But when friends knock on the door, we say,
“Come in.” We have extra chairs for friends. A home that is ready for
friends opens the door to a wider world.
Then I walked. I could explore . . .
The big world beyond my door.
