why, i pleaded with my mother, did i have to share a room with lind a? i was 12 at the time, and i my mind, at least, my seven?year?old sister was still a child. she went to bed earlier than i did, and the light was turned off at her bedtime, i had to resort to flashlight under the covers if i wanted to r ead.

　　 secretly, i meditated on the bliss of being an only child with a room all my own . and during that summer, my father seemded to be meditating along the same line s. he was going to night school and wanted a room to study in quietly, apart fro m his noisy family. so he decided to build one.

　　 for my father, adding a room to the house was not a matter of calling in a contr actor or an architect??it meant getting out hammer and saw, buying some nails, plaster and lumber, and getting to work.

　　 we children were fascinated with the construction process. my baby brother toddl ed about the back yard with cries of “hammoah, hammoah” as he dragged behind h im a hammer bigger than he was. when the framework went up on the concrete found ation, the room became a forest where we played robin hood.

　　 all through the summer the room rose like a miniature magic castle. daddy built a bookcase into one wall for his schoolbooks, a large closet, and windows facing out in three directions. how i envied him the luxury of a rrom of his own.

　　 by christmas, the room was finished ?? paleblue walls, blue curtains shot with gold thread, floor laid, heat and electricity turned on.

　　 on the last day before christmas vacation, i came home from school and found the bedroom i shared with my sister completely rearranged.

　　 “okay, linda!” i shouted. “what did you do with my books?” linda smiled her smug i?know?something?you?don't?know smile and led me down the hall. my par ents were standing in the new room. “surprise!” they cried. all my things had been arranged in a new maple bedroom suite. my clothes hung in the closet; my bo oks lined the built?in bookshelf. i was overwhelmed.

　　 “daddy knew?you needed your own room,” my mother said. “so he decided you sh ould have this one.”

　　 that night, tucked up in my very own bedroom and staring out the window at the s uddenly mysterious and alien backyard in the darkness, i experienced a strange e motion. i was lonely. i missed my sister's sleepy mumbles. “if you don't turn t hat flashlight off, i'm telling mom” had somehow become a missed comfort rather than an annoying threat. i tiptoed to linda's room. she was still awake. togeth er, we tiptoed back to the new room, turned off the lights and huddled under the covers giggling. we told each other ghost stories, each begging the other halfw ay through to stop. beyond the long windows, moonligh sifted through the branche s of the maple tree.

　　 “i'm glad you're back here,” linda said.

　　 i was touched. “really?”

　　 “uh?huh. because now i've finally got a room of my own.”