T’was this morning I opened the newspaper and found a pretty model showing her dainty self on a dozen different beds. Alluring she looked and inviting a supple body beckoned me to glance at different rooms of the hotel she was advertising for: The Arabian room, Chinese and Polynesian, French and English, Mexican and Malaysian, the Swiss chalet with scenic mountains outside, all with the sweet looking girl for company!

I had flown down for a wedding and spent three glorious days in one of the better hotels, courtesy the bridal couple. It was wonderful not having to put the AC off in the mornings, to save on electricity bill, and to lie in bed and watch at regular intervals the hour hand moving lazily. The rooms were divinely built, with high colonial ceilings and walls that kept good distance twixt each other and oh yes, room service was superb. “What’s there for breakfast, waiter?” “Continental sir!” “What’s there for lunch, waiter?” “You order sir, we’ll get you what you want!” During the day it was sleep and room service with swimming pool and health club, sauna and massage round the clock, and during the night the wedding festivities.

At the end of the third day, I caught the flight and came home. “You could have stayed a few more days if you had wanted.” said the wife.

 “Oh no,” I said. “I missed home!”

I look around happily. There’s no room service, no ‘yes sir, no sir!’ It’s self- service over here. You want your breakfast hot, eat it when its placed on the table. You want tea, there’s the microwave dear husband. Where’s the morning paper? The dogs eaten it or torn it to bits! Where’s the maid? She’s the house maid, not your personal maid!

I put my legs up on the easy chair and think, is this better than yon Chinese room, the English four poster bed with the pretty model girl? But my own fading walls with a little placard says, ‘You’re the best dad in the world’, and that funny looking plastic sticker with a cat holding a heart saying, ‘Just a note to say I love you,’ is more precious than pine or gold or walls filled with diamonds!

Oh yes there’s dissent and loud debate, sometimes angry words and hurtful retorts, days of pain and hours of agony. There are times when bankers come knocking and credit cards are returned. Nights of anxiety and sickness.

But it’s home.

There’s warmth, there’s love. I hug my wife and give her the little plaque I brought back from the wedding: ‘Home’ says the plaque, ‘where each lives for the other, and all live for God!”

You look lovely dear model but I’ll stick to home and hearth, it sure is a good place to be in, even without your alluring body in the newspaper, on my bed..!

This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.