The Locket

I was excited to go to my sale.
I call it my sale because it is something I look forward to with anticipation.
Every fall and spring the sale is on my calendar.
I have been going to this sale two times a year for over twenty-five years.

The sale is sponsored by a private academic preschool and kindergarten in the area.
It is a non-profit parent cooperative that emphasizes learning through child-centered play.
The Playhouse, as it is called, was founded in 1936.
Every child’s parent is expected to volunteer in the classroom once a week.

None of my children ever attended the school.
However, attendance at the school is not a prerequisite for attending the sale.
The sale is a community event.
Regulars come twice each year but people come from all over the area.

They began to have a preview day some years back.
You can still purchase things on a preview day before the actual opening day.
Homeschool families, teachers, and those who love books find the sale a blessing.
I have found so many books for our own library and the library in my daughter’s classroom.

On opening day, the crowds are lined up from the front door far into the parking lot.
Twenty minutes before the 9:00 opening they are there.
The regulars have learned to come just a bit before 9:00 and simply walk right in.
Everyone is given a large handled bag upon their entrance.

It is wise to go to the area you deem most important first.
Furniture, books, clothing, kitchen items, and toys are there for you to peruse.
I have learned how to maneuver the aisles with my bag and or box in hand.
Excuse me, excuse me, is said over and over as people try to pass each other in the aisles.

I love the experience.
I love the wonderful things that I find.
You have to go with some items in mind.
If you walk around aimlessly, you will be there all day and walk out with nothing.

When you see something you think you may want, you put it in your bag or box.
Then you can walk around and if you change your mind, you can put it back.
If you walk away from an item you might want to buy and then go back, it will be gone.
The opening day of the sale is not for the fainthearted.

Volunteers all wear red aprons.
If you spot a piece of furniture you want, you have to ask a volunteer to mark it for you.
They put a piece of masking tape on the item and write your first name.
There is an outside entrance near the furniture section for you to load your car.

At the front entrance is the designer section.
Designer pocketbooks and vintage jewelry can be found there.
This section is often bypassed since most people go back to the main area of the sale.
It is always one of the first places I stop.

Many times I will find the most wonderful necklaces for my older daughters.
Odd pieces that you just can’t find in a store.
I saw one such piece as I shopped.
At the end of a long old-fashioned chain was a lovely old locket.

My eye went to the necklace right away.
I knew which daughter would love to wear it.
I got it off the hook and was about to buy it since you have to pay for jewelry at the counter.
I opened the locket and was taken aback.

Inside were two pictures, one of a man and one of a woman.
Someone’s parents, I presumed.
Someone’s grandparents, I imagined.
The pictures were of two people who must have been special to the owner of the locket.

At first I tried to lift the cover with my fingernail but it would not move.
Those pictures seemed to be in the locket for good.
Seeing the pictures that were left in the locket made me sad.
The person who consigned this necklace forgot the pictures were inside.

I knew that even though it was the perfect necklace, I could not buy it.
The volunteers know who consigned what items.
They could easily trace this necklace back to the original owner.
They could call her and tell her that her locket still had pictures in it.

I looked at the faces of the man and the woman.
Very serious faces stared back at me.
Neither one was smiling, though they did not look angry.
Their eyes were kind.

It was a generational thing.
Many portrait pictures were done without smiling.
I wanted so much to know their story.
I wanted so much to know their names.

I reluctantly went over to the volunteer that was nearby.
I smiled and held out the locket.
I opened the locket and said; I think someone forgot these pictures were in here.
I would imagine that these pictures are important to someone, I said as I handed it to her.

You would think, she said, but you never know with this younger generation.
They don’t tend to think things are as important as we do, she said with conviction.
The past is not something they treasure.
She was talking from experience; there was pain in her words.

I hope you can get in contact with the owner of the locket and return the pictures, I said.
We will try, but do you want me to take your number so we can call you? She responded.
Call me? I asked.
Yes, so that you can still buy the locket after the pictures are returned, she explained.

No, thank you, that’s all right, I said a bit wistfully.
That locket was spoken for.
That locket was not for sale.
That locket still had more stories to tell.

As I walked away, I heard the volunteer tell another volunteer what just happened.
Wasn’t that sweet of her to give the locket back to us?
I think she wanted to buy it for her daughter.
As I walked away I heard them lament about the problems with the younger generation.

Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain it to you. (Deuteronomy 32:7)

Remember.
We stand on the shoulders of the generation that came before us.
We are boosted further along in our journey because of their sacrifice and fortitude.
How can they be forgotten?

We need to have a connection to the ones who came before us.
They paved the way for us to walk.
They passed the baton to us.
Has the baton been passed successfully?

I found pictures of two people in a locket.
Two lives that obviously touched other lives.
Two pictures left there for someone else to find.
Someone who made sure that they will be returned to the owner so she can remember.