Today, on the way home with the boys, I took an unplanned detour to "The Mountain";
my grandpa's old farm homestead. The house has collapsed but I was so hoping
I could at least salvage a good window frame to bring to my home.
No such luck. I spied a door in an area that was still standing but way too
dangerous to ever attempt to remove without the house collasping around it.
I will admit, I was suddenly very saddened that I wouldn't get to walk away with
a piece of this house. A huge history to most of our family.
A home that housed a family of 6 children through
some very lean, very difficult and very joyous times.
If only those walls could talk.
Then I spotted my jar. Cast aside at the back of the house were several
old bottles and jars. So, I claimed my prize and was immediately overwhelmed.
Such a simple, simple thing, but one that was instantly very special to me.
You could not pry it out of my hands in exchange for the prettiest vase in the world.
As it sat in the kitchen a bit ago in all of his dusty glory, Noah asked me what
I thought had been in it. Well, I knew my grandpa very well. So, that jar
had housed something that sprouted from the seeds he planted in the garden plot
I stood near today. He had weeded and watered and harvested. Then, he or a
family member had canned whatever fruit or vegetable they had washed and prepared.
And, at some point it was opened and prepared for dinner. I'd like to imagine
that they ate a family meal together in that kitchen that sat on a creaky, creaky floor.
Or, he may have eaten it alone years later. While sitting in his chair by the door
either looking out the window or watching Andy Griffith on his fuzzy black and
white television. And, maybe, just maybe it held something that as I little girl
I helped him with in the garden. I like that thought.
That jar absolutely captivates me. A treasure I didn't expect to find!
and, then... the tears became happy.
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Luke 12:34
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