Saving

Saving is important. It can define us. In this case, I'm not talking about saving souls, perhaps the most important saving any of us may have the opportunity to do. I'm not talking about saving money, something we all should do. I'm not talking about saving the things found in the family junk drawer, although that might go a long way toward defining the persons who stuff things in them. I'm talking about saving the little things that are a bit more difficult to name. For the second time in my life, I'm going through the collected minutiae of a loved one, the things that help to define the person that they have been, the things they have considered important enough to save; the clipped newspaper articles and announcements, the old family pictures, the saved postcards, the certificates, the letters of congratulation, the church bulletins, the report cards. Sometimes we save those things that have pertained to our parents or even older relatives and have been passed through the generations - black and white photos, original deeds, birth, marriage, and death announcements. Sometimes we save things that are particular to us - a college diploma, the bowling score sheet or the golf score card, a meaningful note from a friend at a down time. Sometimes we save those things from our children - a report card with all "A"s, a handmade Father's Day card, a picture with a huge grin showing no front teeth at all. Sometimes, we save a copy of that little prayer or poem that touched us and, hopefully, made us a bit better person, at least for a while. Sometimes, it is a cartoon that made us laugh or got us to look at something in a different way. The point is that we have saved them because they mean something to us. We might be saving in an old shoe box or a ratty file folder. Where we save isn't very important. What is important is that we know where these things are and can put our hands on them at whatever seems to be the right time. This saving is important to us, but it means something about us to the next person who goes through them as well. I've just finished going through a parent's file folder. Some things in it made me stop and wonder why they were thought important. Some things made me laugh out loud. Some things brought tears to my eyes. Taken all together, they helped to more fully define the parent. I kept some things and added them to my own file folder. Others, I trashed. Some day, my own children or maybe even my wife, will look through my file folder and better understand the kind of person I was, at least maybe a little bit better. I'm guessing that most of you already have your shoe box or file folder. If you don't, start one. The memories saved will mean something to you and will, some day, make you more understandable and meaningful to someone who has loved you. God is good.