The Things We Keep

Sometimes ordinary things become the keepers of extraordinary stories.

There are things in our homes that may not mean very much to anyone else.

An old photograph tucked inside an album.

A card resting at the bottom of a drawer.

A child's drawing made years ago.

A handwritten letter.

A journal filled with thoughts from another season of life.

A familiar bag that once belonged to someone we love.

To someone else, they may simply look like things.

But to us, they carry stories.

I've realized over the years that I'm someone who keeps certain things.

Not everything.

But some things are simply harder to part with because of what they represent.

One of those things is a photo album I created from pieces of my grandmother's life.

Inside are photographs of her, her driver's license, newspaper clippings and work newsletters that featured her, and some of the certificates she received through her work.

Separately, they may look like ordinary photographs and pieces of paper.

But together, they tell part of her story.

They remind me that before she was simply "Grandma" to me, she was a woman with her own life.

She had experiences.

She worked.

She accomplished things.

She had places to go and responsibilities to carry.

She had a story long before I became part of it.

And now, those little pieces of her life have a place where they can be remembered.

I also have a travel bag that once belonged to her.

And I have a photograph of my grandfather sitting on a horse.

There's something about an old photograph like that.

It captures more than a face.

It gives you a glimpse into another time.

You begin wondering what happened before the picture was taken.

Where were they going?

What was happening in their life during that season?

What stories did they carry that you may never have heard?

Sometimes one photograph can make you want to know so much more.

And then there are the things I've kept from the life I'm living now.

Cards from my husband.

Cards and drawings from my children.

Little pieces of paper that may have seemed ordinary when they were handed to me but somehow became things I couldn't bring myself to throw away.

A child's drawing may not be worth anything to anyone else.

But when you look at it years later, you may remember the little hands that proudly gave it to you.

You may remember how they wrote their name.

You may remember what they were interested in during that season.

You may even remember the sound of their voice when they said,

"I made this for you."

Suddenly, it isn't just paper anymore.

It's a little bookmark in the story of your life.

Sometimes the things we keep aren't things we display at all.

They're tucked inside boxes, drawers, albums, books, and closets.

An old diary or journal filled with thoughts from years ago.

A handwritten letter from someone we love.

A birthday card with a message inside that meant too much to throw away.

A love letter between two people whose story began long before we knew them.

A recipe written in familiar handwriting.

A certificate representing something someone worked hard to accomplish.

An old newspaper clipping.

A photograph with bent corners.

These things may sit untouched for years.

Then one day, we find them again.

And somehow, we're transported back to another time.

We remember the person.

We remember the season.

Sometimes we even remember exactly how we felt when those words were written or when that keepsake first came into our hands.

There is something special about holding words that were once written by the hand of someone you love.

And in a world where so much of our lives now lives on a screen, there is still something beautiful about handwriting a note, printing a photograph, keeping a journal, or saving a few meaningful pieces of our family's story.

Sometimes we don't realize we're creating a keepsake while we're living the moment.

Today's birthday card may someday become the card someone can't bring themselves to throw away.

Today's family photograph may someday help a grandchild put a face to a name they've heard in family stories.

The recipe you quickly scribble onto a piece of paper may someday be treasured because it's written in your handwriting.

The journal you write in quietly at night may one day give someone you love a glimpse into your hopes, prayers, dreams, and thoughts during this season of your life.

And the drawing your child proudly taped to the refrigerator may someday remind you of a version of them that grew up much faster than you expected.

We don't have to keep everything.

Our homes don't need to become storage places for every object we've ever touched or every piece of paper we've ever received.

But perhaps there are some things worth giving a home.

Not because they're expensive.

Not because they're rare.

Not because anyone else would understand their value.

But because of the story they carry.

Sometimes value has very little to do with what something costs.

Some of the most meaningful things we own may have no monetary value at all.

Their value is found in the person they remind us of.

The season they represent.

The handwriting we recognize.

The laughter we remember.

The story we're able to tell because we kept them.

Maybe that's why some ordinary things become extraordinary with time.

They quietly become the keepers of our stories.

And perhaps one day, someone will open an album, unfold a letter, turn over an old photograph, or read words written years before and discover a little more about the people who came before them.

Not just what they owned.

But who they were.

What they accomplished.

What they loved.

What they believed.

And how they lived.

"I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old."

 — Psalm 77:11 (ESV)

Remembering doesn't mean living in the past.

Sometimes remembering simply helps us appreciate the people, experiences, and seasons that helped shape who we are today.

And maybe that's the beautiful thing about the things we keep.

They don't have to hold us in yesterday.

They can simply remind us that yesterday was part of our story too.

 

  This Week's Gentle Invitation

Take a little time this week to look through something you've kept.

An old photograph.

A letter.

A card.

A journal.

A child's drawing.

A recipe.

A family document.

Or another keepsake that carries a story.

Don't worry about keeping everything.

Instead, choose something meaningful and ask yourself:

  What story does this hold?

If there is a story connected to it that your family may not know, consider writing it down.

Write a name on the back of an old photograph.

Add a date if you know it.

Write a few sentences about why an object matters.

Place meaningful photographs or documents into an album.

And while you're preserving yesterday's stories, don't forget that you're still creating today's.

Write the note.

Take the photograph.

Print one every now and then.

Keep the card that makes you smile.

Write in the journal.

Tell the story.

One day, something ordinary from today may become something extraordinary to someone you love.

A Gentle Reflection

What is something you've kept that probably wouldn't mean much to anyone else, but carries a story you never want to forget?

And perhaps an even gentler question:

What story would you want your family to know about it?

Sometimes preserving the story is just as important as preserving the thing.

With love,

The Candle Lady

Lovely Alabaster LLC

The Art of Calm. The Essence of Luxury.