Things of the heart..!
Robert Clements
Saturday, May 12, 2012 - Airlines are cruel nowadays, they have restricted the amount of things you can carry to such an extent, that you take along only the bare necessities: I was watching my daughter pack before she went on a long stay and I watched her having to make choices of what to take.
Which made me ponder, “If your home were on fire, what would you try to save?” I remembered the words of a person who actually went through such an experience. Her family was warned that a fire was spreading in the direction of their home, and they should take their valuables and leave. These were her thoughts:
‘I never thought that my “things” meant much to me. I prided myself in believing that I would never let myself get attached to possessions, for things of the spirit were all that truly mattered.
But these particular “things” pulled within. Those “worthless” coins and memorabilia from my childhood - what was that about? The furniture we inherited or grew up with - why did it call out to me so? Or that rug we bought together? Or the many items that decorated our house given to us by friends and family over the years?’‘The answer, of course, is that these things represented our love as a couple and a family. They also signified all of those people over the years we have loved and who loved us. Each had stories to tell.
They told of all we’d been through together and where we were headed. They spoke in the voices of generations past - parents and grandparents.’
‘Some of these possessions of a life told stories about how we faced hardship together, how we raised our children and how they lived their lives. These “things” were not just things - they were memories, no less valuable than the photographs.
They told stories about where we’d been, where we presently were and where we were going. They told stories of friends, of family and of love.’
‘I found it difficult to say good-bye. But strangely, I also felt fortunate that I had been surrounded with objects that tell such warm and wonderful stories. Valuable objects, perhaps not in the world’s eyes, but valuable nevertheless. The worth of all these things would never be measured on a ledger sheet. Though they were possessions, they were still things of the heart!’
I saw my daughter look with longing at many things she could not take, and my heart went out to her, because I knew so many things we considered trivial were more valuable than gold for her.
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
Which made me ponder, “If your home were on fire, what would you try to save?” I remembered the words of a person who actually went through such an experience. Her family was warned that a fire was spreading in the direction of their home, and they should take their valuables and leave. These were her thoughts:
‘I never thought that my “things” meant much to me. I prided myself in believing that I would never let myself get attached to possessions, for things of the spirit were all that truly mattered.
But these particular “things” pulled within. Those “worthless” coins and memorabilia from my childhood - what was that about? The furniture we inherited or grew up with - why did it call out to me so? Or that rug we bought together? Or the many items that decorated our house given to us by friends and family over the years?’‘The answer, of course, is that these things represented our love as a couple and a family. They also signified all of those people over the years we have loved and who loved us. Each had stories to tell.
They told of all we’d been through together and where we were headed. They spoke in the voices of generations past - parents and grandparents.’
‘Some of these possessions of a life told stories about how we faced hardship together, how we raised our children and how they lived their lives. These “things” were not just things - they were memories, no less valuable than the photographs.
They told stories about where we’d been, where we presently were and where we were going. They told stories of friends, of family and of love.’
‘I found it difficult to say good-bye. But strangely, I also felt fortunate that I had been surrounded with objects that tell such warm and wonderful stories. Valuable objects, perhaps not in the world’s eyes, but valuable nevertheless. The worth of all these things would never be measured on a ledger sheet. Though they were possessions, they were still things of the heart!’
I saw my daughter look with longing at many things she could not take, and my heart went out to her, because I knew so many things we considered trivial were more valuable than gold for her.
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
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