September 21, 2021
My House is A Memory Box
Signal Mountain UMC
My house is a memory box, each piece a decoration of heart and soul. I walk past a lamp, its shade now just wires. It reminds me of Mother. It was the lamp beside my bed. She would turn it off at night after she tucked me in. I remember when she got the “new” shade. I remember my mother.
My house is a memory box, each piece a decoration of heart and soul. The P. Buckley Moss paintings hang on the kitchen wall of my log house. One is a beautiful version of “Waiting for Tom” which hung in my mother’s home. The other one, I bought at a Thrift Store, depicting the Red Lion Inn, a place I have photographed briefly traveling through New England. This painting takes me back to traveling the roads and mountains of New England… Upstate New York, Bethel Woods, North Hero Island, Vermont, New Hampshire and the Presidential Mountain Range. Memories flood my mind. God’s wonderful world.
My house is a memory box. A beautiful hand-made clay Nativity. Two beautiful Nativities. A friend so dear made these, gave them to me. They are precious. They are glorious. They remind me of my Savior as a baby with his mother and father, nothing but the stars and the future ahead. They take me back to so many plays depicting this same scene with all the different children I’ve known and loved. The Nativity speaks the story of Jesus into being. What a joy divine! Hope of the world! I remember children. The infant Jesus.
Sometimes, life seems too much to even accomplish. Ask God for strength. Keep your eye fixed on him no matter what. He will help you through it all; the only truth that is eternal. My house is full of memories and now God’s memory floods my soul. “Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, ‘How great Thou Art, How Great Thou Art!’”
My house is a memory box. What about yours?
My Dad’s Graduation from UVA
D. S. Hearn