Objects in the mirror

Objects in the mirror are sometimes closer than they appear. And sometimes things around the house have greater value than their surface might seem to warrant...value that only appears when you use them and remember how you found them.

This stainless steel milk pitcher is important to me in that way. Like rubbing a lamp for a genie, every time I pick it up to water the plants in the living room, (for that is the job that falls to it now) I remember the day it came into my possession. .

The boss and I were returning from dropping off milk for the church chicken and biscuit supper some years ago, when we passed an intriguing looking garage sale. We were soon glad we stopped as the folks who were running it were a retired farm couple. We had a terrific time comparing stories about the farming lifestyle and playing do you know......? Although we had never met and had never heard their names before we had dozens of acquaintances in common and they had read the Farm Side so they felt as if they knew us. We soon felt the same way about them, in the way you sometimes do when you meet an unexpected kindred soul.

Unfortunately, although they had a great time showing us around the place, there really wasn't much in the sale that we had any use for. The one thing that caught my eye was the little steel pitcher. They had used it to bring milk to the house for years, but now it was just another bit of left over clutter to them. I liked it though...it is nicely proportioned and simply caught my eye. However, I couldn't get the lady of the house to put a price on it....even though it was in the sale....so that I could buy it. After at least an hour and probably a good deal more of enjoyable farm talk we climbed into the car to leave empty handed but full of the pleasure of good company.

As we were backing down the driveway, however, the lady came over to the car and tapped on the window. When I rolled it down she put the pitcher in my lap. I would have happily paid her for it, but she would take no money.

We have never seen them again or heard word of them, so that short time at their garage sale was the only contact we ever had or probably will ever have. Still I think of that kind lady every time I water my plants (and as I have a lot of them, that is quite often) and remember her fondly.
And I treasure it all out of proportion to its intrinsic value and I am sure I always will. You might say it is closer than it appears.