We recently had a digging project at the ole’ Winkle homestead. I joked with the love of my life, “Maybe, if we dig deeply enough, we may find treasure, or retirement gold, or China!” Wow, was I a prophetess, or what! We actually did strike treasure. What was that under all that dirt? It was small, metal, well-worn, and eroded from years of abandonment beneath the soil? My hubby was quick to identify it as Cadillac, circa 1957 or 1958 to be exact (I’m married to a car nerd). It was a big digging project, but who would have thought that we would unearth a Cadillac? Problem was, it was only about five inches long, lost long ago by one of our boys playing in the driveway. But it IS treasure.
I took the muddy find into the house, soaked it, and scrubbed it gently with a well-worn toothbrush, eventually exposing the chipped bright-blue paint. Although tires were missing and the frame of the car was bent and rusty, for a moment it was as though my hand was embracing one of my young ones again. In a flash, the span of years was erased; the boys were running through my nest again, giggling and causing chaos. Through my mind’s eye, a little, chubby hand was grasping that rusty car, racing down imaginary roads, maneuvering sharp bends, with a high-pitched voice supplying the motor sounds. Vroom! The vision was so clear, so refreshing. Precious memories, how they linger, how they ever flood my soul. The songwriter nailed it with those lyrics.
Thank God for precious memories; praise Him for the blessing of children. What a blessing to be a chosen instrument given the temporary change of a little soul, for the opportunity not only to rear them up physically, but also to point them to the Father. If your children are still little tykes, appreciate and drink in every moment, even the slightly chaotic ones, for those moments are gone in a blink of the eye. Thank You, Lord, for that little car, that oasis of memory reminding me that although I am may not be wealthy in a worldly sense, I am rich indeed. Thank You for buried treasure, both in the ground and in my memory. Although these hands are now aged and wrinkled, they once cupped the face of my child. How blessed I am!
Psalm 127:3 Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.
How thankful I am for my family; I am blessed beyond measure. You have lent me children, directly from Your hand, formed and designed by You. How unworthy, yet blessed, I am. Help me to never cease to praise You for the gift of children.<div class='sharedaddy sd-block sd-like jetpack-likes-widget-wrapper jetpack-likes-widget-unloaded' id='like-post-wrapper-164683012-268-6513b77c5ad9f' data-src='https://widgets.wp.com/likes/#blog_id=164683012&post_id=268&origin=grandmasgleanings.com&obj_id=164683012-268-6513b77c5ad9f' data-name='like-post-frame-164683012-268-6513b77c5ad9f' data-title='Like or Reblog'><h3 class="sd-title">Like this:</h3><div class='likes-widget-placeholder post-likes-widget-placeholder' style='height: 55px;'><span class='button'><span>Like</span></span> <span class="loading">Loading...</span></div><span class='sd-text-color'></span><a class='sd-link-color'></a></div>