The steps of our lives are made of red brick and grey mortar and they are rough to the touch. Once they were new and strong, yet now they are old and cracked. In the dead of winter they are as cold as ice, and the summer as hot as the midday sun. These steps hold thousands of stories.
My grandfather first walked up these steps in 1948, to look at a wonderful house he had heard was for sale. It will be a place where he would raise his children and grandchildren. These steps will bring a family.
Simple brick and mortar will also hold the weight of mothers and their new born children. There will be first days at school being walked down these steps and last days of college too. These steps will bring much joy to this house but sometimes sorrow too. A thirteen year old boy walked down these steps and never returned. These steps hold thousands of stories.
And now the Great granchildren of my grandfather walk these same steps. Once again they bring a family.
So when you walk down the street take note of the steps, because they are the steps of our lives.