A little lad lived on a hillside, and each day he would look across the valley beneath to the other hill just beyond and be all but hypnotized by the beauty of a house. From where he looked, it seemed the house had golden windows.
“When I get a little older,” he would say to himself, “I am going to find that house with the golden windows and see how beautiful it is up close.”
By and by, the day came when he was to make his journey. He walked and walked until, at length, he came to a house where a little girl was playing on her front lawn.
“Pardon Me,” the boy said, “I am looking for the house with the golden windows. Could you tell me where it might be?”
“Why, certainly,” the young maid replied. And stepping outside the gate, she pointed to the opposite hill from whence he had just traveled.
“Do you see that house?” she asked. And he directed his gaze to his own house. The evening sun was kissing the windows with a glorious shade of gold. He realized then that he had been living in the house with the golden windows all the time and had not known it.
Clovis would then add: “The years, to be sure, have left their mark; and old age has come upon me. But there are no regrets – for as of this moment, with all thanks to God, I am living in the house with the golden windows.”
Clovis Chappell: Preacher of the Word, Wallace Chappell, pages 95, 96