The Ladybug Room

When my dad moved into his house, I got to pick my room.

The obvious choice was not the room I now inhabit.

The clear choice was the biggest room at the end of the hall—

a huge bathroom, tons of windows.

Or the other room with the pretty view and banister.

But I picked this room.

Because I liked the feeling I got when I was in it.

It just felt right.

So, lo and behold, this room—

the dingiest room out of the three—

became mine.

As I started spending time in it, I noticed ladybugs.

Lots of ladybugs.

Months went by,

and still, ladybugs.

Summer, fall, winter, spring—

always ladybugs.

It’s been two years in this house,

and in my little room,

there are always ladybugs.

No matter the time of year

or the weather,

they are always there.

And I know I was meant to be in the ladybug room.