Once again Rick Shuster presents a thought provoking piece.
Treasure Boxes are fun and sad and often filled with marvelous items, the kind mostly of which memories are made. A photo of that most special person in your life, a lock of hair from a child or was it a long ago sweetheart, a broach that was Great Grandmas’, the one with the pin missing; one baby shoe, the other got lost in a move long ago, a pocket/purse bible, with now hard to read, almost scribbling, a fervent prayer written inside the back cover, when a child was ill and hope was stretched beyond it’s limits. A poem from a friend that always brought a smile, an old coin, from some far away land, a child written note that had I love you scrawled across it, an obituary yellowed with age, someone you don’t know, wonder who that was? An embroidered handkerchief only used to dry up tears. And what’s this in the bottom?, another photo, I wonder who it is, I’m sure it’s someone special, oh look, it is my picture, excuse me please, I need to cry, I wish I didn’t cry like this, but I miss her so much, especially today, you see, I’ve been going through the Treasure Box.