Welcome to the Honey House

By Jeanette Stout-Irwin, Phoenix, Arizona

As appeared in

I’ve had a parade of wonderful guests at the Honey House—my turn-of-the-century bed-and-breakfast—but my granddaughter would always be the most important.

In fall 2004, seven-year-old Shelby came to live with us while her father’s unit was in Iraq. We became fast friends, lounging outside, hidden in our grove of palm trees, reading about Winnie the Pooh’s adventures in the 100 Acre Wood.

It was a frightening time. You couldn’t turn on the news without hearing about record numbers of US fatalities, and my son was on the front lines with the First Cavalry!

I could see the worry in Shelby’s eyes that first day she walked in the door—even though she put up a brave front just like me. I knew she would be afraid sometimes. Especially in the middle of the night.

If only I could think of something that might comfort her when I’m not there, I thought as I carried her suitcase inside. Then it hit me: Shelby could sleep in the Angel Room! After all, it had already ushered the original owner’s six children into the world as a birthing room and after that a nursery.

The Angel Room had been home to childhood wonder from the beginning. There was a sense of peace and goodness in it, like angels had been stationed there. At least that’s what our guests told me.