My house is wonderful. In its own way. When we moved in five years ago, it was pretty broken down.
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I’m 12 now, so we moved in when I was seven. During that time, I was so angry. Why did we have to move? Why did I have to go to this new school? Our old house was wonderful. It was a wonderful community with wonderful neighbors.
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Everything was wonderful.
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My new home, well, it was pretty cool. It was way bigger than my old house, and I had a bigger room. I could decorate it any way I wanted. Paint the walls the color that I chose and get new furniture.
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My thoughts then were conflicting.
Would it be easy for me to fit in at this new school? Would I make friends? What would the curriculum be like?
Eventually I got used to it. I made acquaintances, not friends. But the schoolwork was challenging, and the teachers were nice.
I have great friends now. Some are still acquaintances, but I like where I am right now. I like my school. I like my teachers.
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But what I don’t like is the fence around my house.
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Before we moved in, there was already a fence surrounding our backyard.
But we still needed to insert another one, in place of the dying trees.
The fence is a whitish-cream color. I think it’s ugly. I don’t think that it’s that ugly. I’m not sure what I think of that fence. Before, I didn’t think much of it. Yes, it was noticeable, but I didn’t think much of it.
One day when I was coming home on the school bus, my friend said to me “your fence is kind of hideous.”
I was prepared to defend it, saying “so what?” and “what does that have to do with you?”
Then I got off the bus. I looked really closely at that fence. The fence was a cream color. It looked fine. Then I looked at my house. It was painted white with a patterned roof. That looked fine as well. Then I looked at my house and the fence. The white color of the house did not look good with the cream-colored fence at all.
Not at all.
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But nothing can be “perfect.”
Princeton, NJ
