A Little House

Since I was a little girl, I loved books.  I remember this one book called, The Little House.  It’s about a little house that once sat in an open field, and over time the surrounding area was developed and the little house was squished among big buildings and elevated train tracks.  It just told a story of impermanence, how everything changes.  I witnessed the same thing happening in neighborhoods I’ve lived.  The house I was born in was torn down after we moved and became a parking structure for the Catholic Church next door.  The next house I grew up in was also torn down and became a high rise apartment building.  And every time I go back to Japan to my hometown, there’s a new road and highways surrounding the neighborhood, which used to be a “sleepy little town.”  I don’t even recognize it.
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