It is strange the stuff we keep. It occupies a small place in our house yet we lose notice of them. When my mother passed away a number of years ago, we were faced with the daunting task of cleaning her home of many positions. She was a borderline hoarder, albeit a neat and semi orderly one.
I found this jar of marbles and it came very close to going to the auctioneer along with a lot of other things of unknown origins. As I looked into the jar, a settling warmth went through me as I recognized these glass marbles as mine from a childhood long ago lost. For just a snapshot of a moment, I was in my childhood, in the neighborhood vacant lot. Drawing a circle in the harden west Texas dirt and “shooting for keeps” with Mike, Dale, and Jacky. I could see us all on our knees taking turns squinting in the seemingly important hope of knocking anothers marble out of the circle and into our bag. Bob Segar’s words ‘Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” echoed through my heart.
That same value of times gone bye flashed through me as I walked past the dusty jar sitting in the foyer corner. I walk past this memory a baker’s dozen times a day. Never giving it the value it deserves. I carried it with me to the front porch for my morning musings and watched as the sun renewed the reflections of life off these simple glass spheres.
Take the time to remember all the marbles of your youth that you have given away for keeps. ††† en theos ††† jimwork