The Memory Box

Several months ago, I picked up a box in my study to swap it out for another decorative box, and suddenly I found myself looking through an assortment of mementos. Rhinestone bracelets from my childhood dress-up box, my grandmother’s long white gloves, my brass piggy bank, years of gratitude journals, a stuffed mouse my parents used to trade back and forth, the playbill from the first Broadway show we saw with the kids, sweet notes from my husband and children, and more. I wondered why I kept some of the things, such as a little coin purse and a leather key keeper in the shape of a cowboy boot. 

In some ways it’s just junk. And some of it truly is! Why did I keep those tiny shells my first boyfriend gave me? These items have been tucked away for years. If you’d asked me what was in the box, I might have mentioned the gratitude journals and a few items from childhood, but truly I’d forgotten most of these things.

There’s one item that really steals my heart. On one side of the paper our youngest was clearly practicing their letters, from A to Z. On the other side I had written the date – June 24, 2001, when they were six. I also wrote the conversation we had when they presented the paper to me:

“This is for you, Mom, to always remember that I was once little.”

“I’ll always keep this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best mom in the world.”

Sometimes those little things we tuck away can transport us to another time and place, filling our heart with joy. I tucked that one back into the box for another day.