Our parents would turn the porch light on in the evenings when it was time to get home. Five minutes was the rule or there would be consequences. For the most part my sisters and brothers and I would always make it home, since there were multiple lookouts between us all. We lived in a quiet little neighborhood we called 'The Circle' because it was a cluster of homes around an oval street. There were hard times and good times that revolved around rules, routines, and responsibilities. Childhood, days gone by. Many of them I miss.
You can drive through any neighborhoods and see porch lights on. I wonder if it is a signal for others, calling children home for the night?
They are good reminders that home waits for us.
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