In A Place Called Home, Sharon Grace Smith invites readers into a deeply personal journey through heartbreak, resilience, and reinvention. The memoir traces her transition from a painful divorce to establishing a unique, welcoming household that became a refuge for strangers and a sanctuary for herself and her daughter. Set in a charming but neglected old house in the Pacific Northwest, Smith takes a leap of faith, transforming it into a community-centered home that heals and uplifts. Through letters, storytelling, and candid reflection, she unfolds a narrative of risk, reception, and rejoicing—the three parts that shape her compelling life pivot.

Smith’s voice is warm and grounded. Her writing doesn’t hide behind pretension. Instead, it welcomes you in, like a friend with a cup of tea and a cozy chair. The scene where she first lays eyes on the big old house—watching a young man mow the lawn, uncertain but intrigued—felt like the beginning of something magical, though rooted in the grit of real life. I could feel her anxiety and hope intertwine as she considered if this could be “the place” after losing her home and marriage. She doesn’t dramatize. She tells the truth in a way that aches.

One of the most powerful themes in the book is community—how it can be built from scratch, from strangers, even from chaos. When Smith writes about interviewing boarders, I held my breath. This could’ve gone so wrong. But the people who arrive—Eva, Margaret, Jacob, even Jack Daniels are layered, quirky, and full of surprise. Jacob, a logger down on his luck, becomes a kind of handyman guardian, removing forty wheelbarrows of dirt from the basement and lovingly maintaining the old riding lawnmower. These aren’t perfect people. They come with baggage. But Sharon doesn’t ask for perfection. She offers space, and something beautiful grows in return.

What I appreciated most was how the book carries spiritual undertones without preaching. There’s a gentleness in how Smith talks about prayer, intuition, and the presence of angels. It’s not religious—it’s heartfelt. You can feel her trembling hope as she whispers affirmations to herself at night, reminding herself, “I am not alone. I am worthy. I can do this.” It’s not always dramatic. It’s quiet. It’s real. That honesty, that vulnerability, is what made me tear up more than once. Especially when she lets us into her fears—not just of being alone, but of being responsible for everything, again.

A Place Called Home is a memoir for anyone who’s ever lost something big and had to rebuild. It’s for people who believe in second chances, even if they’re scared to take the first step. If you love stories that are tender, thoughtful, and infused with quiet bravery, this book is a must-read. It reminds you that home isn’t a structure. It’s the people, the effort, and the courage to open the door and let the light in.

Pages: 152 | ASIN : B0BC6VW59D