I often walk past the charity store without a second thought. It’s normally just full of old tat that nobody wants anymore; broken clocks, jeans two sizes too small, once-loved stuffed animals, that sort of thing. Today though, something caught my eye. Tucked into the far corner of the window display was a small wooden box. It was about the size of my palm with two, beautifully detailed, elephants carved into the top. It looked so out of place amongst all the unwanted and forgotten detritus of people’s lives. Someone once put a lot of time, attention and love into crafting it, and yet there it sat anyway. It made me sad. Why would something like that, hand-made, be there? Maybe because the hand that made it makes no more and to those that were left it was just another piece of old tat.
I’ll love it now.