I Walked Through Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Home A Second Time

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It’s never like you remember…

I went to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s home a second time (author of Little House On The Prairie stories).

This time I was an adult old enough to draw interesting conclusions.

As with most things, books are better than the television adaptation. Additionally, real-life facts are better than the books.

It’s amazing the connections you learn to make with experience. That’s the only reason I feel so wise now.

The books I’ve read. The information I’ve absorbed. It all makes the journey even more interesting.

And even more interesting still – I seem to be the only one who truly “gets” the full story. The people running the museum haven’t figured out how to tell the story because they don’t know enough to understand what’s important.

That’s the problem with most institutions: They have institutional memory, but not enough sense to know what to remember. But they still have their purpose.

I won’t spell out what I think is important. Mostly because it probably doesn’t matter to the overall narrative.

All I’ll say here is that it was so refreshing to see someone who obviously loved the simple bare necessities of life. Someone who thoroughly loved their family’s sacrifice enough to leave a legacy remembering it.

Not only did Laura Ingalls Wilder do that, but her daughter, Rose, made sure she did.

Don’t tell me family isn’t important. Sometimes it’s all you need.