She
began sifting through the mountain of ‘stuff’
in the shed as the rain made swift-moving rivers on the window. Just a few
minutes ago the sun shone brightly; she wasn’t sure how this sudden downpour
had manifested so assuredly. She was sure though it had stolen her resolve to
look through the boxes her dad had stored in this old shed. The pain of her
dad’s death was fresh and it was going to be hard enough to open up these old
memories, let alone try to do it on a dreary grey day in the rain. She would
need the warmth and comfort of a beautiful sunny day to tackle this old shed. Her
trek back to the house was slow even though the rain threatened and pelted down
hard. In a way it felt like the rain was pounding on her sadness; appeasing it
somehow.
Inside
the house, after putting the kettle to boil, she picked up a piece of paper
that seemed to have fallen from the mantle. It looked quite old & she
feared tearing it as she tried to unfold it. As she unfolded it she found it to
be just a plain piece of paper wrapped around a photo of what appeared to be a
beautiful chest of some kind; the kind of chest that held the treasures stolen
by the pirates at sea. On the back of the photo was written ‘heed the hidden place”
and it was marked with a little squiggly heart, sort of like a signature of
some kind. It didn’t seem to mean anything to her and she was thinking to toss
it (heaven knows she already had enough paper to contend with) but something
like a slight tap on the shoulder seemed to encourage her to place it back up
on the mantle.
The
tea kettle called so she headed out to the kitchen in answer. Soon it was
singing and as she poured the water over the tea bag she noticed the sun was
out again. It seemed the rain had stopped abruptly, the very same way it had
begun. With any luck the boxes in the shed could be sorted by dinner time so,
steaming hot mug of tea in hand, she headed back out to the shed.
There
were boxes of clothes, a couple cartons containing Christmas decorations,
several boxes of ornaments her dad had packed up when her mom had died, boxes
of old canning jars, a garbage bag full of old shoes, an artificial Christmas
tree, several small totes filled with tools, a few large garbage bags filled
with returnable cans and bottles, various rakes, shovels and garden tools.
Backed up to the shed was the truck she had rented to load up as she sorted then
distribute to the goodwill or the garbage dump. She had almost filled the truck
box and there was only a few things left in the shed. She was doing really well
between moments of sadness and melancholy and small fits of laughter brought on
by some of her discoveries. There was only a small pile of items she had
segregated for further inspection which she would take into the house to take a
closer look at and a few more items to sort through at the back of the shed.
She
lifted up a big garbage bag full of miscellaneous items and what she uncovered
left her speechless. Staring at the most beautiful chest she had ever seen, she
realized it was the chest in the picture she placed back on the mantle in the
house.
Lifting the lid slowly she felt another slight
tap on the shoulder; her dad’s presence was compelling and tears were close to
the surface as she sensed this chest was of particular significance for her.
Inside she found nothing; an empty chest. Puzzled, she knelt down on the floor.
Examining the chest from top to bottom, all sides, inside, she was ready to
walk away when she again felt that slight tap on the shoulder, as if to remind
her of something. Ah yes! She remembered the writing on the back of the picture
“Heed the hidden space”. There will be a secret space that she must find; she
was certain of it now. Over and over she scrutinized every inch of the chest
for some sign of a hidden place.
Finally she found it; she noticed the
slightest crack along the left side edge. She would need something with which
to pry it open. As if meant for the job there was a small blade hanging on the
wall just above her head. She slipped the blade alongside the crack, pried up
and the whole bottom came up and she was able to see what was hidden underneath
the false floor.
Tears fell as she looked at her mom’s and
dad’s wedding rings, the beautiful heart shaped locket her dad had given her
mom, her dad’s medals and most touching a photo album. Opening it up she found
her past staring up at her, from the time her mom and dad met, their wedding,
her birth and every little event and occasion following along the journey of
her life, with accompanying stories and comments. She was speechless.
She sat for a long time smiling, laughing,
weeping. A more beautiful treasure she could not have found. She would keep it
forever and pass it on to her daughter as it had been passed along to her, of
course with a few added chapters.
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