Just a mattress on the floor, some lawn chairs in the living room, and a bunch of Tupperware in lieu of actual dishes. My hubby worked a few hours a week as a tutor after class, and I worked two part-time jobs at the mall. We barely had enough money to pay our measly rent, much less to buy anything else.

 

It was tough, but by the grace of God we scraped by. It’s a time I look back on with fondness now, even though I would never want to go back to living like that.

 

Here’s the funny thing. While we lived in that apartment, my husband and I had so. much. fun.

 

Sure, we wanted to make more money and get out of that creepy apartment complex. (No joke, our neighbors were not the kind of people you want to hang around with.) We wanted to be able to go out to eat or buy each other nice gifts or even just some new clothes. We bought whatever groceries were cheap, usually frozen junk because neither of us knew how to cook.

 

We had it tough back then. But some of our silliest memories together are from that time in our lives.

 

When our psycho neighbors were screaming at each other all night, keeping us awake, we played mini golf in our bedroom. We watched every single Texas Rangers game and every episode of The Nanny. (And maybe some Jersey Shore too.) We sat on the floor eating Otter Pops watching the rain fall outside. We played outrageous pranks on each other like a couple of little kids. We went to the park and played baseball with sticks and pinecones.

 

It was a hard time, but it was a simple time. We were happy because we were together, and that was all we truly needed.

 

Looking at that old photo reminded me that the house isn’t what makes a place feel like home. It’s the people inside of it. The memories made together. Finding joy in the little things because they’re the things that really matter.

 

You don’t have to have a lot to be thankful. All it takes is the willingness to enjoy life in every season, knowing that none of them last very long.