The Figurine

I can still picture her on the table.
She was on the table next to our sofa in the living room.
I remember the philodendron plant that thrived there.
I remember the way the plant cascaded down the side of the table closest to the front door.

It was a figurine of a little girl.
She had pigtails with red bows.
She was wearing green slippers.
She was holding an apron in her hands ready to wrap it around her waist.

It was the apron I always loved.
It had a big red heart in the center.
The apron also had tiny polka dots on it.
From the back you could see the dress the little girl was wearing.

I don’t know why I liked that little figurine.
Her long eyelashes with her eager expression resonated deep down in my heart.
Her lips looked like she was ready to say something.
Only in my imagination, did the little figurine talk.

I created all sorts of scenarios.
I imagined all the reasons why she would need to wear an apron.
I would pretend she was talking to some of the other figurines my mother had in other places.
The other ones were nice but the little girl with the apron was my favorite.

After my mother died, there were clothes to sort through and things to give away.
A lot of that sorting was done by me and my aunt, who was my mother’s sister.
My aunt loved consignment shops.
We went through my mother’s things and got them ready to bring to the shop.

That was the time I threw away two, dirty trays that were under the kitchen cabinet.
They were on a shelf inside a bag with the name of a store my mother shopped at frequently.
The trays were smudged and dark; they were not something my mother ever used.
I put the dirty trays in the throw away pile to go out in the trash later.

My aunt gathered the things to take to the consignment shop after the clothes were given away.
I happened to mention the trays that I threw away days before.
Did you find them under the kitchen cabinet? My aunt asked me.
Yes, they were wrapped in a bag but they were really dirty, I answered her.

Those trays were real silver, my aunt informed me.
Why were they under the kitchen cabinet? I asked her, realizing what I had done.
Your mother never liked to polish silver, so she just kept them there out of sight, she said.
I didn’t know, I said and the tears began to fall.

They were tears of frustration for not knowing real silver when I saw it.
My aunt hugged me.
How could you possibly be expected to know? She asked rhetorically; You’re only fifteen.
The tears fell freely; a mix of sadness, frustration, and confusion.

My aunt and I had a job to do that really was not our job to do at all.
I was doing the best that I could at a time when this was the last thing I wanted to do.
A few of my mother’s special things I kept.
My aunt did not keep anything for herself at all.

She was my sister and that was enough, my aunt said with tears in her eyes.
I wrapped all the figurines and added them to the pile for the consignment shop.
When my aunt was ready to take everything, she asked me one question.
Are you sure there is nothing here you want to keep? As I shook my head, No.

I went on, not thinking about the task we just completed.
Not long after those things went to the consignment shop, I was sorry I wrapped the figurines.
I was sorry that I did not have the foresight to know that they meant something to me.
I could care less about silver trays, but the little girl with the apron was part of my childhood.

Every sale I went to, every consignment shop I visited, I looked for her.
I even tried to describe her except I remembered her wrong.
I thought she was holding a tray of cookies, but realized later that was something I pretended.
I have found other figurines through the years but never the little girl in the apron.

The name of the company that made the figurines was on the bottom of another one I found.
The figurines resemble Hummel figures; however, they are marked, Napcoware.
I did my research and learned about the company that made the figurines.
The company was located in Ohio.

The NAPCO Company or National Potteries Corporation is located in Bedford, OH and began production of Porcelain and Glass in 1938. Ceramic pieces sold by Napco (National Potteries Corporation) are distinctive. Since its prolific output of the 1950s and 1960s, Napco has held the interest of collectors because the ceramic items are consistently well-designed.

Like the silver trays, I did not know what I had at the time.
To me, the figurines were part of my childhood.
To me, the figurines were used to fuel my imagination.
How I wished I had them back.

Throughout the years, I have replaced some of the figurines.
I have found ones my mother did not have; Christmas figurines that are my new favorite.
However, I was on a quest to find the little girl with the apron.
And one day I did!

I had checked E-bay periodically with no success.
Googling, little girl with the apron figurine turned up no results.
Then one day, there she was!
It was the little figurine I played with so many times.

I bought her and followed the tracking information.
On the day she was to arrive, I went out to the mailbox.
There was a brown box sitting behind all of our mail.
I brought the box inside, opened it, and unwrapped a piece of my childhood.

There was the apron with the big red heart.
There were the pigtails with the red ribbons.
There were the bedroom slippers on her feet and the eager expression in her eyes.
There were words along the base that had long been forgotten.

Mother’s Helper.

Tears came to my eyes.
I don’t know how much of a mother’s helper I was all those years ago.
However, that was something my mother always said to me as a young girl.
I was her helper; I had forgotten.

Finding that figurine has made a memory come full circle.
It is a good memory.
That figurine is a part of my childhood.
The little girl with the apron has never lost its significance.

Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:8-10)

Imagine how heaven rejoices when one person comes to Christ.
Imagine the celebration when one person realizes they need Jesus as their Savior and Lord.
The person is lost no more but rather found in Him.
And finding that lost person matters greatly.