Cream of the crop.

Do you fall in love with things? I do.

Some things just make me smile when I see them. Like my grinning ceramic jack-o’-lantern, my chubby copper bird ornament, and my first real piece of art; a pretty floral in shades of purple.

Other things remind me of someone I love, like the delicate chintz creamer that my Grandma gave me. I told her I thought it was pretty, and she immediately took it out of her china cabinet and gifted it to me. I was careful not to mention liking something of hers after that, but the creamer will always be special to me because she wanted me to be the one to cherish it next.

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While I may rearrange and reorganize, there are certain things I will never tire of seeing, touching, and using because these are the things that make home, home.

I often wonder who will treasure my things after I’m gone. Will they love them as much as I do?

— Debra

Lost and Found

The year I turned sixteen, Dad paid a visit to a locally owned jewelry store and purchased necklaces for my two sisters and me. Not only was it my first piece of real gold jewelry, it was the first time Dad had chosen gifts for us all by himself. That alone made it extra special.

You see, Mom is a master gift giver. She can figure you out, size you up, and come up with a perfect fit nearly every single time. So for Dad to get it right on the very first try is pretty amazing. I get sentimental when I picture him browsing the glass cases and thinking of us while he made his selections.

I wore my necklace constantly, and of course, took it with me when I moved away for college. It was such a treasure.

Shortly after I moved back home, I reached into my jewelry box for my necklace, but it wasn’t there! My heart dropped. I searched high and low for days and came up with nothing. I could only surmise that I had lost it, as girls of that age tend to do. I was so disappointed in myself, and felt like I had betrayed Dad. How could I have been so careless?

Years later, as I was checking the inside of my now dated luggage set and readying it for donation, I saw a little sparkle in the pocket of the cosmetics case. And there . . . nestled in the silken folds . . . was my necklace. (I could cry just thinking about it.)

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I hadn’t been careless! I had tucked my beautiful butterfly necklace into the pocket for safe keeping, but in my haste to unpack, I had left it behind. I don’t know what made me check the luggage so carefully that day, but I am so happy I did.

In the end, it isn’t really as much about the necklace as it is about the fact that Dad chose it just for me. I still love it dearly, and will treasure it always.

What are some of your little treasures?

– Debra