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When we had our first child my father-in-law gave me a poem which he lovingly hand wrote as a keepsake. It was by that famous author, Anonymous. I memorized the first two lines. “Some have silver and some have gold, Who hasn’t longed for a better life or to taste the exotic fruit money can buy? Having traveled a bit, I’ve been dazzled by Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Van Gogh’s Starry Night, Monet’s Water Lilies, and Whistler’s Portrait of the Painter’s Mother. I’ve marveled at Michelangelo’s Statue of David, the Greek Venus de Milo, and Rodin’s The Thinker. I’ve been a guest in homes so lavish and pristine you were afraid to breathe, much less sit down. And I can say without hesitation that none of these can compare to my own assortment of priceless treasures. My cherished collection includes but is not limited to the following: 1. Carnations made out of pink Kleenex tissues 2. A hanging wall letter holder made from paper plates 3. Popsicle framed pictures 4. A teabag taped to a picture of a teapot 5. A jewelry box made from macaroni glued to a cigar box and spray painted gold 6. Abstract (and I do mean abstract) works of art 7. Family collages of pictures pasted on construction paper 8. Hand made greeting cards with original poems beginning with “Roses are red and violets are blue” 9. Seedlings planted in small paper cups 10. Awards with “World’s Greatest Mom” written in crayon 11. Colorful potholders made from material scraps 12. A cutting board made in shop class 13. Jewelry made from pipe cleaners 14. Message holders made from clothespins 15. Paper weights made from painted rocks 16. Plaster of Paris foot prints 17. Coupons that say, “I will take out the trash” or “I will clean my room.” 18. Card board place mats 19. A child’s handprint accompanied by a poem about children leaving fingerprints It’s taken years to acquire these treasures. And as priceless as they are, more priceless still was the look on three eager, little faces as they gave them to me each year on Mother’s Day. Those precious, smiling faces were anxiously waiting for my look of approval, my affectionate hug, my appreciative kiss, and the twinkle in my eye that said, “You done good, kid! I love this gift! And I love you more than you will ever know.” “What matter then if wealth we miss?
A Child’s Handprints
Sometimes you get discouraged Be sure to visit this page often to read the next edition of Walking in the Valley. You can write to the author at bdahlgren@wcgsouthbay.org.
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