The Home Place
by Jefferson David Tant
The scene comes clearly to my mind’s eye even now. After crossing the mighty Mississippi at Vicksburg, we knew there were only 150 miles to the little town of Haynesville, Louisiana, and “the old home place.”
“Home” is one of the sweet and dear words from the heart. This home was one of those that give true meaning to the word. It was the earthly dwelling place of S. B. and Nicie Hartsell. It was here that most of their ten children were born, where they learned to work, to live, to love, and where they learned about their Heavenly Father and his home.
As I think of the old home place, where my wife lived her first 19 years, many memories flood my soul and bring tears to my eyes. These are memories of what a home should be, surely memories of what God intended when he decreed that man and woman should be husband and wife, raise a family, and have a home. Bear with me as I write of some of these memories.
A Place of Love
The Hartsell family was a large family and one that showed love as children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and many other loved ones gathered from time to time. It brings to mind the great and glorious reunion God’s children will have when we gather in our final home in the presence of our Father.
A Place of Worship
Few family gatherings took place without the songbooks being passed out for a family singing. Thirty or forty people sitting on chairs, the floor, the sofa, or on the ever-present beds in the living room blended their voices together to edify one another and praise God. Often others came to be with us and enjoy this time together. The Scriptures were read, and prayers were offered. Do you remember the apostle John’s description of the scenes around the great throne of God, with the multiplied thousands of God’s creation singing praise? I believe we had a foretaste of this at the old home place.
A Place of Hospitality
The doors were open to friends and strangers alike. Sunday dinner, a traveler needing a place to stay, a child or an aged person needing a refuge for a time — these all provided an opportunity for this home to offer its heart. And can’t you image Christ and his angels standing at the gate of that eternal city, bidding us come in and partake forever of the delights of the home he has prepared for us? He said, “Come, and I will give you rest.”
A Place of Joy
It would have been enough — just being together. But there was more. The children enjoyed the swings hung from the huge trees, walking through the pastures and woods, fishing with Papaw in the pond, helping with the animals, gathering in the fruit of the garden. Working in the kitchen with Grandmother could be fun, too. And there were the stories that Papaw would tell that would both amuse and edify. And Grandmother had a few stories of her own. These were great times, and shouldn’t home be a place of joy? Isn’t that what God has arranged for us? “And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their head: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (Isaiah 35:10).
Papaw left us in April 1982 at the age of 84. Grandmother departed a year later at the age of 86. And now the old home place is gone. It was home to five generations of Hartsells from 1926 to 1983 — 57 years. Its boards and bricks may be gone from the land, but not from the heart. “Home is where the heart is.” Thanks for the memories. May we all strive to make our earthly homes such a place.
