by Amanda Lewis

Created on: June 07, 2010

A red and white 1981 single-wide trailer, barn tin as underpinning, leaking roof, and the occasional floor needing repair…this is what I call home.  I am a college graduate who has been married to my wonderful husband for three years.  We have a precious little boy who will be two in August.  Our friends all live in $100,000 houses and drive brand new cars.  The difference between them and us is that we are not constantly strapped for date night money or savings for our child.  We are simply happy.

When we first met, my husband owned a four bedroom; two bath home nestled amidst 86 acres full of horses and pasture.  The acreage belonged to his mother but the house was his.  Five months after we were married we found out we were pregnant and decided to move closer to his father, in which we completely adore, and wanted our child to be raised around.  There was a decision to be made so we went for it.  We were blessed to be loaned some family land to do with what we wanted.  Our dream was to build, but our means of income was not permitting at that time.  We started to search the newspapers and lots for a trailer.  At last we found our home.

My husband was searching the newspapers one morning and came across a trailer listed for $4,500 dollars.  It was about forty miles away so after making a phone call we drove the winding roads to take a look at our potential first family home.  I have to admit at first glance I was a little embarrassed.  I thought, “No way can I live in that,” but why couldn’t I.  Was I now turning into the girl I didn’t want to be; the one who is judgmental and materialistic?  I quickly saw the trailer in a completely different light after collecting my thoughts.  This was going to be home.

As we were standing there talking with the sellers, I listened to their situation and why they were selling it and immediately felt saddened.  They talked of a dream close to ours, one which was interrupted by a baby born three months early.  When I saw that precious baby with a heart monitor hooked up and his tiny fingers, I began to feel guilty.  I wished at that moment I could afford to just give them money to fix it up and live in it, but in reality we couldn’t and they needed the money and we needed a home.  As my husband offered $1,000 less than their listing I had to walk away.  I asked him why

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