I am from the creamy white house with green shutters,
tall and charming,
sitting proud on five acres of grass.

From three and a half hours North,
our humble haven,
hidden in a bay on Manson Lake.

From Christmas Eves at the Udvares’,
a place of love and laughter,
surrounded by family similar in character.

I am from Nana, Ladybug and Little Lades,
from “let me count your freckles,”
and strawberry blonde hair, lighter every summer.

From the boxes of handmade ornaments,
remnants of Sunday-school,
the simple start to a life-long journey.

From my parents’ “trip to the store,”
a little white lie,
and bringing home a sleepy, black puppy.

I am from Stoll and from Baxter,
from family both near and far,
a web of people, selfless and kind.

From winding night-time drives with friends,
with nowhere to be,
laughter spilling from the car windows.

From a tight-knit family of four,
dinner at the table,
staying honest and grounded.

From the creamy white house with green shutters,
From Nana, Ladybug, and Little Lades,
From Stoll and from Baxter,
I became me.