Recently, when I
was putting away a few utensils, I found myself feeling grateful for those
simple tools. There were no more than a handful—all that’s required for a
week’s worth of meals. They had served me well for many, many years, those timeworn
forks, knives and spoons, especially during our kitchen renovation when so much
was stored away. Before we moved to our current home, I considered replacing
them, but I’ve declined to do so. I bought them when I was a young girl, during
one of my mother’s garage sale forays. She suggested that I purchase them for
my “hope chest”. (Hmm . . . I wonder if anyone has a “hope chest” anymore, and
if so, what hopes are locked away?) Wait . . . utensils, gratitude . . .
Funny . . . those
utensils caused me to wonder why we might deem that which is limited to be of
greater value. For instance, ordinary
rocks, of which there are many, are not considered to be as valuable as rare
“precious” stones. The list could go on and on. Could the case be true for those
few forks and knives? Had their decreased numbers increased their value?
And so I
continued to ponder the many and the few, wondering if this pale pink rose I recently
purchased (something occasionally difficult to obtain) was more precious than
the boundless array of flowering weeds that dot the landscape? Yes and no.
Maybe, but maybe not, because it seems there is beauty to be found in both the scarce
and the plentiful-- if we choose it to be so, if we pause to relish each
offering.
Isn’t each breath I take, currently countless,
as precious as my last?
The pictures are wonderful.
ReplyDeleteThank you . . . I think pale pink roses are so lovely.
ReplyDelete