"A
buried treasure"
by Bob Perks © 2001
She is your neighbor. She lives in that house down the street where
the grass gets a little tall in the summer. The sidewalks remain covered
in snow a little longer than most of the homes in your area. During
your early morning drive you'll see her outside in her housecoat and
slippers sweeping the porch. Even on a warm summer day she wears a heavy
sweater.
Every so often you see her walking down the street with her fold-up
push cart heading toward the grocery store.
For the most part she is invisible to the world. She has become a part
of the scenery. She goes about her daily routines asking for nothing
from the world. And the world responds by doing nothing for her.
The truth is she could die tomorrow and you most likely wouldn't even
miss her.
"They're selling that old house down the street. You know, where
that old lady lived."
"I saw a sign at the grocery store. They're having a tag sale.
God, I bet there's some great old stuff in there. Let's make a point
to go Saturday. We'll get there early for some real bargains."
By the end of that Saturday, when the last piece of her life has been
sold, she will be but a memory for someone. Her worth to whatever family
members laid claim to her property, will be in dollars and cents.
She was just passing through this life, biding her time.
"How sad," you say to yourself.
How sad indeed. Sad that you never got to know her.
If you had taken the time to say "hello" one day you would
have been blessed. Perhaps walking the down the street one early summer's
eve you would have seen her sitting on the old oak rocking chair you
got at a bargain price the day they auctioned off her life. That chair
was hand made by her Father. He came to America with the skill of a
craftsman and raised her and her seven siblings with his bare hands.
Her Momma sat in that chair and breast fed every one of them. She made
their clothes, baked bread everyday and tended to a large garden that
they depended on for fresh vegetables.
This mysterious old lady was married once for what would have been a
lifetime for most of us. Her husband died years ago, but not before
he paid the last payment on the home you rummaged through on Saturday.
Children? They had seven kids and raised them on hand-me-downs and fresh
garden vegetables. Two died at an early age, one in a car accident when
he was just a teen. The others went on to college and scattered across
the U.S. in search of big dollars, big homes and little respect for
who gave them life and everything they had today.
Except for a few photographs that they split among themselves as tokens
of the "good old days" they each received their portion of
the estate and went on with their lives.
Some where in her possessions they found an envelope filled with cash.
On it was written the words, "I couldn't spend your money."
For they would send her checks to pay someone to cut the grass and shovel
the sidewalk.
She did it herself.
She had no living relatives and very few friends to visit her. The ones
still around were tucked away in nursing homes she couldn't get to visit.
Yes, how sad it is that you didn't take the time to say hello. You would
have met an honest to goodness Angel here on earth.
I am guilty, too. You see, I wouldn't have met her either except one
day while driving past her house I blew a tire and pulled by the side
of the road. While struggling with the spare, she came out and offered
me a fresh glass of homemade iced tea. I sat on her steps as she rocked
in that chair and told me a lifetime of stories. She talked so long
she apologized for she rarely got visitors. I assured her that she need
not apologize at all. I was the one who was sorry that I had never stopped
by sooner.
"You are an angel," I told her.
In her sweet, gentle voice she said, " We are each other's angels.
We meet when it is time."
She died the other day and I sat on her front porch and watched her
life fall apart.
The neighbors got some real bargains that day. But I found a treasure.
"Somebody's troubled and confused
Somebody's got nothing left to lose,
not too far from here.
Somebody's forgotten how to trust
Somebody's dying for love,
Not too far from here.
It may be a stranger's face,
But I'm praying for your Grace,
To move in me and take away the fear
'Cause somebody's hurting
Not too far from here."
("Not too far from here" Ty Lacy/Steve Siler 1993 Shepherd's
Fold Music)
"I Believe in you!"
Bob Perks