My husband and I have been on a journey this year. It started almost three years ago as his body went through some difficult changes because of a cancer that was treated and supposedly in remission. It came back this year. We’re trying to fill each day with something that will give us time together, new memories and prayers that God’s will is going to be done. These recent months have been filled with mini vacations, which include driving close to home and exploring nature.

Yesterday we drove west, to one of our old neighborhoods. It has now sprawled out to the suburbs even further, taking away some of the beautiful farmland we used to enjoy. Rolling hills are now covered with the little boxes referred to in that old song about “Ticky Tacky.” I found the lyrics on the Internet, and they really are a look at progress and how it can change not only our landscape, but also the people that live on it. The dilapidated barn in the picture above is a common sight. The barns are usually accompanied with broken down, boarded up houses which are no longer habitable. As we passed through what used to be small towns, there now stood rows and rows of houses, apartments and condominiums. High density construction was filling the once abundant farm acreage and destroying some of God’s beauty. Every neighborhood looked the same. The charm of those old barns, homes and buildings was forever erased from the landscape. A very sad commentary on progress.

As our drive continued, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before every semblance of the past will be gone in our country. Beautifully rolling hills, filled with crops, farm implements, and hard-working people will be replaced with more ticky tacky that all looks the same. Not to mention that people are all becoming the same. In the hopes of being different, they change the color of their hair or shave their heads. They pierce areas of their skin that shouldn’t be pierced, cover other parts with tattoos and try to be independent of what used to be normal. Instead, they are all becoming more of the same. I pray that my great-grandchildren will still be able to experience the beauty of God’s creation, before it’s all covered up with little boxes that all look the same.

In a way, our lives resemble that “ticky tack.” We strive to make a difference in a changing world. We set goals, we punch a time clock, we go through the motions of living, but are we really living. We forget that change is constant on this planet, but God never changes.

LITTLE BOXES By Malvina Reynolds.

Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes, little boxes
Little boxes all the same

There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same

And the people in the houses all went to the university

Where they all were put in boxes
Little boxes all the same

And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers
And business executives

And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martini dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family

And they all get put in boxes
Little boxes all the same

There’s a green one, and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same