Heading home after a winter down south, I was craving the Vineyard — its weather (can’t get enough), family, community, the farm across the street starting to bloom, familiar faces and the joy of just being here. I was feeling stifled from all the sameness and lack of diversity. Here is where the heart is, as they say.

Boarding the ferry, luckily, at the front of the line, the portals wafted a cool breeze, the Sound was a little choppy, and the sky blue. All perfect for what I was craving. As I opened the door to the house, dropped my bags, boxes, suitcases, etc., something seemed different. And then I spotted it. My daughters had made an office for me in the TV room, as a special place. I hadn’t been home for Mother’s Day, so they wanted to surprise me. The desk was a labor of love that had taken hours to assemble. Familiar paintings, an orchid, a lamp, baskets for supplies, memorable photos of the family, and a bowl of chocolates made the space complete.

What prompted this, I was later told, was a lecture to raise money for the homeless I had been to during the winter months, which I shared with them, about the plight of the homeless, and how everyone is looking for a special place to call their own. Not to equate the despair of homelessness with the needs of the more fortunate, the speaker, who was there to raise awareness for those unfortunate enough to be without a home, made the point that special places are important to everyone.

An accompanying film drove home the message. There were all kinds of special places, created by all kinds of women and their own special needs. From a tree house, to a barn, to a shed, to an outdoor shower, to a hammock, to a nook at the back of a room, or a loft in a garage. Each special place was decorated according to the woman’s own tastes, the things she loved, the fabrics that made her comfortable, the art that made her smile, personal belongings with memories, gifts of special meaning and even pets. As for the homeless, their special place was anywhere they could find privacy, safety, or comfort. Even carrying their belongings, wherever they settled down, it became their special place. A far cry from more fortunate women, but the need nevertheless.

It seems in this time of crushing rhetoric and vicious diatribes from every form of media known to man, there must be places for us all to escape to. We need solace and calm. We need our psyches to be fed in positive and optimistic ways. And as the speaker for the homeless educated the audience on the plight of the homeless, their daily challenges, their abusive relationships, their abuse from society, I realized once again how lucky I am to have the Vineyard, knowing of the wealth of nature, creativity, knowledge, exploration that awaited me on my return.

My office is beautiful. My desk inspires me to sit, to read, think and to write. It is definitely a special place that’s all mine. And knowing who created it for me is the icing on the cake.

Sue Lamoreaux lives in Edgartown.