Windows

I like windows. Among all the structures that make a home, windows are to me the most interesting ones. Not for what they actually are, but for the space they frame.

Windows come in all sizes and shapes, and locations. Some are no higher than the ground level, just enough for a beam of light and hope to streak into dark basements; others are on the roof, as to remind us that there is always an escape to the sky above. Some windows are huge, inundating the room with sunlight; some are narrow slits, just enough to let the archer point down his bow and arrow from his fortress dungeon, or for the condemned man to wait for the crack of dawn. We open windows to welcome fresh air into our homes, and we close them for protection from natural elements or for privacy. We decorate our windows with lace curtains, knickknacks, plants and flowers - small treasures we want to show off to the world.

There are few things in the house that change by the hour of the day, or by the seasons of the year, - but windows do. Clouds racing in the sky, trees shaking in the wind, rainbows and raindrops, sunrises and sunsets, a neighbor rushing by, the splendors of fall colors and the revival of spring, all are life pictures timed and framed by our windows. And when nighttime comes, a bit uneasy seeing myself reflected in the darkened glass pane of my window, I too draw down the shades and withdraw from the world.

Windows tell us so much about ourselves - how we see the world from the secure walls of our home, and what part of us we allow others to see. And like many questions and issues in life, windows are not defined by what they are, but by the perspectives they frame.

May your window frame, in this holiday season, be made of understanding, humility, and grace.

Chinh Le

Corvallis

(Published in the Gazette-Times, December 30^th, 2007)