She lived in a mango tree. Kyra never planned it that way, but here she was.
“Daddy, can I have a tree house?” a seven year old Kyra begged every day that summer. Finally, Daddy responded, “If you want it, you have to build it. I will help, but it is your responsibility.”
They went to the torn down barn. She could have as much wood as she wanted and earn building supplies with chores. Kyra agreed, she loved working the land.
That first year, Daddy helped her construct a basic platform with a rope ladder and an old tarp for a roof. She studied all the construction books at the library. The next year, up went walls and a solid roof. A second room was added the following year, followed by a deck. By the time Kyra was eighteen, she had a her very own mini-dream-home nestled in that mango tree.
At twenty-one, her Daddy offered her the farm and the house. She said, “I’ll take the farm, you keep the house. I have my mango tree.”