Finding My Way Home

 

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For me, Hotchkiss, Colorado is more than just a place on the map or a spot on the road; it’s a place of dreams and promises, where pioneer families came, built their homes and left a legacy.  

It is the land with mesas and ranches where sheep herders and families tended their herds on Roger’s Mesa and in the mountains on the Muddy.

 

It is the place where families gathered to help with sheep camps and shearing.  It is the community house and family reunions where people gathered and music flowed.  It is a time when families and neighbors danced through summer nights.

This little town harbors family memories of special times.  It is the home where my mother lived and laughed and sometimes cried. It is where a young girl went to school and played with friends and cousins, a time when families were close.

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Dotty Allen abt 1941

It is the stories of high school fun where bull dogs and football games and glee club members made lasting memories.  It is the laughter of friendship and high school pranks.

It is the ranch of my favorite cowboy who broke horses with hard work and sweat.  It is the home where a grandfather left his heart—the place where brothers remained—and a distance of miles that kept him longing to return.

It is cabin where a grandmother cooked and sewed.  It is place where she milked her cows and tended her garden.  It is the home where she raised her children and loved her family.

And it is the place at Riverside where family returns for a final rest.  It is a mesa with mountain views where generations still visit to walk and remember.

This little valley town beckoned and waited; its silent call tugged at my soul, waiting for my return.  Hotchkiss captured my heart,  the compass that always reminded how find my way home.

 

 

 

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Enlighten – The Daily Post

8 thoughts on “Finding My Way Home

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