The Eye Of The Beholder

Among my most prized earthly possessions is an antique "Hoosier" cabinet that once belonged to my grandmother. I spent hours playing with it when I was a child, so much that Grandma decided I should have it for my own when I grew up.

When the cabinet came into my home about 15 years ago, I immediately found a spot for it in the breakfast nook. Perfect! I marveled at old cabinet and gently placed my own hands over the areas where my grandmother's hands had worn away the paint over many years of pie-making on it's surface.

For a few minutes, I was a five year old girl again, tirelessly spinning the handle that use to sift the flour for Grandma's delicious baked goods. The original yellow stoneware bowl, now cracked with age, had my name scrawled across the bottom with a marker. B-e-c-k-y. I thought about the day my grandmother had written it there to insure the cabinet would land in the proper hands after she was gone.

Needless to say, that old cabinet is worth a million dollars to me. I truly don't know that I could part with it for all the money in the world! It's sentimental value is much higher than any monetary gain it might bring. I love that old cabinet! Just looking at it makes me feel warm and safe, much like I use to feel in my grandmother's arms.

Today the cabinet sits in the breakfast nook of our new home. Instead of housing baking supplies, it has become bit of a "catch all" for our family's odds and ends that have no where else to go. Art supplies for my own grandkids, a few books, table cloths, and our camera to name a few. Though it's function has changed, it remains a vital member of our family.

My six year old grand-daughter, Esther was here for a few days this past week. She pulled the box of art supplies out of the cabinet, then stepped back and looked at it for a brief moment.

"Mamaw", she stated "You really should buy a new cabinet. This one's old and it doesn't look too good."

What? How could that child possibly say such a horrible thing about my grandmother's cabinet?

Ahh, but it is true. Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.

Esther didn't know my grand-mother (or even my mother for that matter). When she looks at the cabinet, she sees an old piece of furniture, it's surface dulled by time and paint worn through around the handles. There's no way she can understand that to me, those worn places symbolize the spots where my grandmothers petite, flour covered hands once touched. It is there, I find indescribable beauty in the old Hoosier cabinet.

In fact, our home is filled with beautiful things, but that cabinet is probably the only piece of furniture I would actually risk my life to save if ever there were a flood or fire.

I started to explain the importance of the cabinet to Esther, but decided on a brief summary instead. I told her I loved the cabinet because it was my grandma's and I use to play with it when I was her age. She seemed to be content with my story and went on her way with her art supplies.

I hope that in the future, Esther will remember the cabinet as fondly as I do now. Nothing would make me happier than to think it might sit in her own home as a most treasured possession someday. Just imagining her trying to explain it's value to her grandchildren (my great grandchildren) makes my heart smile.

"My grandma use to keep my art supplies in that cabinet when I was a little girl" She will tell them. And then she will run her fingers across the marks around the handles where the paint is worn thin ... and she will smile and add, "I wouldn't take a million dollars for this old thing"