Matías’ House: A Refuge Full of Signs

Where Deer and Bears Cross the Path

This post is also available in Spanish. Read it here

Sometimes all it takes is to arrive there, at Matías’ house, for everything to quiet down. Matías’ house is not a wooden structure. It is a small RV, a cozy trailer, with a little plot surrounded by bushes and pines that whisper with the wind.

It belongs to our dear María —yes, the one with the red car—. A month before Matías went to heaven, she told me:
“Neighbor, I want to buy a place, and it will be for Matías.”
She said he was her heir.
She didn’t manage to complete the purchase before… but a month and a half after Matías passed, the property was handed over to her. And so she named it Matías’ House, having a wrought-iron sign made with his name and a little cow, just like he liked.

There we disconnect from everything and reconnect with what truly matters: love, the land, the animals, the trees, and the sky… that sky where Matías dwells.

Always, always, always when we are there, nature gifts us encounters: deer approaching silently, ducks and geese gliding over the water, rabbits darting like lightning, and a chorus of little birds awakening the soul. Last month, the forest even gave us the presence of a bear. Yes, a furry and majestic bear crossed our path. We followed it from a distance, amazed, as if Matías himself had placed it there to surprise us, and I couldn’t help but imagine Matías looking at us with a mischievous smile.

Matías’ house is right at the edge where the Delaware Water Gap begins. In front of it, but on the mountain, lie two of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen: Crater Lake and Blue Mountain Lake. There is no direct path, but from up there, you can see the little house, small like a hidden jewel among the greenery.

And then there are the signs… those that only the heart understands.

Since Matías passed, real raccoons began appearing to María. They stared at her as if wanting to say something. One day, at her work, on a wall, a toy raccoon appeared, dressed in blue, with its arms raised in a victorious gesture. Blue, Matías’ favorite color. Since then, it adorns her car, like a little guardian.

When María bought her house, the entrance already had a small wrought-iron deer and two ceramic animal figures. A little over a year ago, while cleaning the autumn leaves from the grounds, we discovered something that had gone unnoticed: one of the two ceramic animals guarding the entrance, next to the frog, was actually a raccoon. No one had noticed it before, but there it was, standing firm as if waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. Sometimes I think Matías has a very special sense of humor for sending his messages.

This weekend, almost two years after María received the house, another revelation came. While washing it, she noticed the model logo: “Sunny Brook”, with a radiant blue sun over a lake, surrounded by pines and blue mountains. Blue, Matías’ favorite color. A landscape that, unintentionally, seems to capture the very soul of the place and of the one it is named after. Matías’ house is that place where the signs are felt, where everything seems to make sense, and where the sky is not so far away.

This Sunday, upon returning home from the house, we experienced another one of those signs that reach straight to the soul. In our bedroom, next to Matías’ ashes and some of his favorite animals, there is a battery-powered candle. We always light it from time to time: it lasts about four to six hours and then goes out. To relight it, you have to flip the switch at the bottom. It is impossible for it to stay lit for days in a row.

But what happened this time was different. We had gone to Matías’ house on Thursday and returned home Sunday night. And there it was… the candle lit. Without anyone touching it. Impossible in physical terms, but so possible in the language of the soul.

I felt it as a silent welcome:

“You’re home now and I’m here too”…