Time for Memories

Feet elevated, I sit a lot these days. I wrote before that I would get long delayed reading completed. In truth, when I feel up to it, I do, but there are those times when I just sit, little energy for anything else. This is the rare time when special memories flow back.

This morning I was watching the Beta swim lazily around in his bowl. My eyes wandered to a memento near by that I had saved through these many years. That time included the fire that took most of our possessions, but left a few trunks of memories in our pole barn untouched by the unpredictable savagery of those flames.

The small figurine was one of my mother's collection of Hummels that she cherished and displayed proudly on her living room bookcases. As I recall, this particular  piece was titled "the little goose girl. "This story passed on to me, much as the Hummel. I am passing the story on to you, my readers.

My mother was fanatical about living in a clean, uncluttered house. She dusted, swept and vacuumed faithfully for as long as I can remember. One day she dusted the little goose girl figurine which depicted a little girl, a bouquet of flowers clutched behind her back, looking down at two geese who laid their necks and heads on the girl's chest. "Sweet" is the correct description of this charming scene.

One day as my mother was dusting the statue, she was startled to see that the little girl was looking up at her, instead of down at the geese. My mother was not one to question events in life as my father did, but rather she usually accepted whatever came her way.

Imagine her confusion when some time later the goose girl was looking in another direction. As she told me the story years later, she began to doubt her sanity. Eventually the truth came out, restoring my mother's mental state, but pointing the finger at my mischievous older brother who loved building model planes and who was equipped with the delicate brushes and paint necessary to re-do the wandering eyes of that usually steadfast little girl.

Hummels as old as this one could be valuable for collectors at estate sales. This Hummel lost any of its value after being painted and repainted many times, but the true value, priceless in my eyes, is the story and precious memory I will have whenever I look at, or dust that figurine, or re-tell the story to family members when they drop in to visit our home.