There was a time, long ago, when things were made to last, were built with intention, and used with care. These things have a soul I relate with. It’s as if they are time capsules themselves waiting to retell their long lost stories of ingenuity, hard work, resourcefulness, and imagination. Or, at least, I want them to.
Perusing our local thrift shops is one of my favorite past times. I never know what I will find to admire and wonder about. When I do find worthy treasures, I image myself writing stories that will bring them back to life. I wonder about the people who used them, and how. I believe they knew, in intricate detail, how to make from scratch, do it by hand, and appreciate the slow carefulness of making it well. Although my plot lines usually trail off before making it home, I'm sure that my treasures will eventually speak again.
I am quite convinced that the way of the future will have deep roots in our treasured past. At least I hope it will.
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