What makes Cincinnati home

I'll never forget the first time I saw Fountain Square. It was a warm fall day and I was a freshman at Mount St. Joseph. A group of students and I ventured downtown to explore our new city. As I soaked in the sun, I was filled with excitement and some fear, wondering what my life in Cincinnati would be like. After all, I didn't know anyone here, and I certainly didn't understand what all the fuss was about the chili.

I never could have imagined what a journey it would be. In my early 20s, I spent a lot of time on the social scene. I never missed an Oktoberfest and spent many a Saturday night at Arthur's and RP McMurphy's. I met a lot of people and made a large network of friends. Eventually, I met my "Proctoid," fell in love and settled down in Pleasant Ridge. Some of those first friends have come and gone, but a precious few have been along for the whole ride.

A lot has changed in the 14 years I've spent calling the Queen City home. The fountain moved to a new spot in the square and new stadiums have been built. I've seen the decline of the Main Street bar district and the rise of Newport. I remember when Rookwood was only the Pavilion side. But the biggest change of all has been within me.

I spent the most formative years of my life in this city and barely recognize that naïve youth visiting the fountain for the first time. I discovered my faith again thanks to the community at Bellarmine Chapel. I've learned the meaning of neighbor from the wonderful residents of Tulane Road. I've made dear friends who accept me as I am, while continually challenging me to grow.

Today, as I look at the "For Sale" sign in my front yard, my eyes well with tears that I'm leaving this adopted hometown. A small town in Pennsylvania has a paper plant where my husband is being transferred for work. Despite the sadness, I am comforted to know that when we return in a few years, nothing will have changed. The kind strangers, the caring neighbors, and the loving friends will certainly be here when we come home. After all, the heart of this city is not a statue, it is the people.

Peggy Farwig, 32, who will call Pleasant Ridge home for about two more weeks, is mother to 6-month-old Maggie and wife to Jim, the "Proctoid."