Certainly I had no idea words C.S. Lewis used to describe
his childhood in the big house his father built would end up being a quirky
connection for me from the Lord.
I put Lewis’s sentence on the overhead screen: I am a
product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences . . . and told the participants in my memoir class to use it as a model to describe a
place from their lives.
The room was quiet as a dozen or so heads bent over paper
and iPads. As students took turns reading their pieces, we were transported to
ocean beaches, arid deserts, exotic cities, and sad farewell places. One woman
captured our attention with her nostalgic description of sunsets over long mountain
views and generations of family spilling over sweeping lawns. It was so lovely,
I asked her where she lived.
