Hidden Treasure?

"I kept a journal for years and years." That's what I've said to myself for years and years. But in the more recent past I've been asking myself, "If I kept a journal for years and years, where are they? Surely I wouldn't have thrown them away!" I had almost decided that, as is so often the case, my memory is a liar and I just like to think that I'd been writing for years and years.

About two weeks ago, a box in the corner of Weldon's closet caught my eye. What's in that big box? It's behind my carry-on and my little duffle bag, and that's my shoulder massage thingie on top of it. Hmmm. Three days ago I dragged it into my sewing room; two days ago I opened it up.

French books and a year of Reader's Digest in French; a few old photo albums; some commemorative magazines, including a National Geographic from May 1951; paraphernalia from my high school graduation, certificates of various achievements, papers I wrote during my two years at North Central Bible College; a little stack of greeting cards; a book in which I had written down quite a few of the songs I wrote way back when; AND thirteen journals!

I really did keep a journal for years and years! They span, approximately, the years from 1979 to 1994. In flipping through them, I see that, in my usual fashion, not every year is complete; but that's still a whole lot of reading ahead of me. I have no idea what I'll find. Will it be painful? Will it be like hidden treasure that puts a smile on my face? I'm hoping my memory cells will be jolted into actually remembering a few things.

I'm excited. I'm kind of scared. These books represent a couple of my previous lifetimes. But, hey! They're my lifetimes! I'm going to take a slow stroll down memory lane.
  

Declutter Delay

It's been a hot topic for a couple of years now: simplify, throw out, declutter. Kind of like spring cleaning on steroids. The other day I thoroughly cleaned the front room, rearranging the furniture, making sure to catch all the sneaky dust bunnies hiding in the corners and clinging to the paneling.

Today I decided to tackle my closet. I moved a few pair of shoes to the Goodwill pile and threw out a couple empty(!) boxes. While cleaning the top shelf, I found my box of letters from Haiti. Not too long ago, I was wondering where I had put this, thinking it was probably time to toss it out.

That's quite a stash!

 

I pulled out two cards that weren't lined up like the rest. You can see them sitting along the edge of the box. The first was a birthday card from 1984, from the two young men who taught me Creole, written in French, of all things!

"Happy Birthday, dear Madame Steve. May the year be a year of joy, peace, goodness, success, and all good things." ~Joel, your unforgettable friend.
"If ever you arrive somewhere else, this card will remind you of your best friends." ~Jean Claude.

Oh, my! "If ever you arrive somewhere else." Yup, I'm definitely somewhere else, and my eyes are filling with tears. Next, a birthday card from 1985.

This was also from Joel and Jean Claude, plus the third of the Three Musketeers: Prophete. The upper left corner says, "From J. Dorceus, J. C. Louis, P. Baptiste. "Prophete is not here. Happy birthday from him, for he put his money to buy the card, too."

I think you can read the rest. "If May 12th wasn't existed, we would invent it, so to wish you a happy birthday and a happy mother's day."

What can I say? A big chunk of my life. Faraway friends, and one already awaiting me in heaven. I carefully put the two cards back in the box. I'll continue to clean and declutter, but this treasure box won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Little by little, I'll do my best to work my way through the memories.