Photo by Pezibear, www.pixabay.com
It’s the old ‘imagine your home is burning’ routine… Assume your family is safe, your important documents secure in that fire-proof box you keep meaning to put in place (!), and the pets safely outside. Ok, given those essentials of life are taken care of, now imagine some kind of magical time suspension has granted you 15 minutes to walk through your home and save five items from the flames… “You first”, I hear you intone… Fair enough, I started this 😉
First, I’d save the wooden statue I have on my mantlepiece. It’s a smooth abstract of a tall slender woman holding a pot on her head whilst carrying a baby on her back. She’s beautiful, strong… and reminds me of both my time in West Africa (where the statue originated actually) and of my time baby-wearing my own daughter.
Second, I’d save my box of memories from my daughter’s first year of her life. Growing up on the move, my parents weren’t able to save all the bits and bobs of infancy… those first shoes, that dress that always got admiring glances from strangers, “What a beautiful baby!”, the toy she absolutely adored… I’ve become something of a hoarder of things as a parent myself, compensating probably for the childhood ‘things’ I left behind…
Third, I’d save my recipe files… Tried and tested comforts gathered and refined over the years… including some treasured recipes of foods I’ve left behind on another continent… foods I used to queue up for in the street, clutching the enamel bowl I’d soon fill with highly calorific delights…
Fourth, I’d save the geranium cuttings on my windowsill… They are little shoots of hope, gathered from the old plants currently being caught in the freezing wind. Their parents might not make the winter, but these growing shoots carry their history into the spring… I love that; the continuing cycle that fills my yard with the colourful echoes of the past.
Fifth, I’d save my tweezers. Because I’m vain 😳 . And they are Swedish, so are the best in the world. These come pretty close to being irreplaceable.
Our treasures are part of our story… physical markers of who we are, where we’ve been, and even, where we’d like to go. They help us tell our stories without the necessity of speech, signaling to those around us the important features of our histories. They remind us of our Self… acting as a mirror reflecting and reminding us of the uniqueness of our story.
What treasures would you save?
I’d love to hear your thoughts…
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