Losing Faith

Losing Faith
When I was younger I used to go over to my grandparent’s house in Idaho Falls while my parents worked. When entering their neighborhood it appeared to be quaint and cozy. Well it was but the road seemed to divide the addition. One side was full of bright, happy trees and even a little park with a stream running through it. The side my grandparent’s lived on seemed to be the slums of Idaho Falls. All the yards and houses were neglected. My grandparent’s was more like a shack, aged and dirty. Its light pink paint flaked off the siding in the wind and the shingles lifted as if to say hello. The windows were cracked and looked like they had been showered in hard water. The lawn was taken over by thistle and dandelions and a garden, used mostly by stray cats, sat adjacent to the front door. The steps leading up to that door were old and missing chunks. And oddly placed amongst this mess was a lush shrub-like bush that seemed to beam with pride. Despite the ug...