Glass shelves inside the curio cabinet hold the priceless collection of Precious Moments. These figurines were given as gifts for high school graduation, our wedding, first anniversary, birth of babies and many other times of happiness as well as heartaches. The collection included ones which were passed down to me after my mother went to be with Jesus. Honestly, there is a lot of emotion tied up in this porcelain collection.
When our 15 month grandson “T” was visiting a couple of weekends ago, he was fascinated by the collection. I know those big dark eyes spoke to him like they had spoken to me. His fascination began with looking through the glass, then it moved to trying to open the door and ended with him figuring out how to open the little door which led to those interesting miniature people. After a couple of times telling him NO, I swatted at his hand thinking he would stay away. Then I turned my attention to the other matters.
My husband, Jim and I were cooking lunch and he sent me to the computer to send off an email. Neither of us was keeping a close eye on the “T.” Suddenly with a crash and breaking glass, I realized “T” had gotten back into the cabinet.
Jim beat me to the curio and was already telling “T”, “No, No.” By then though it was too late, a glass shelf lay at the bottom with bits and pieces of Precious Moments all around it. When I got to the crash scene “T” was crying. Sobbing actually! He was searching in the diaper bag for his pacifier, not showing up in the bag; he ran into the bedroom to find it. The pacifier was his console, he knew he had done something he was told not to do and needed the comfort of something familiar. By the time this grandma reached him; I was more concerned about his hurt heart than my broken collection. I picked him up, hugged and assured him that Grandma still loved him.
Jim took “T” out of my arms and I began to pick up the broken pieces. Memories flashed by as I read, “To Thee with Love” on the bottom of the little girl holding her box of kittens. Picking up the little Indian boy whose body was broke in two pieces; the inscription read “O How I Love Jesus.” Then there was the Pocahontas whose pappoose had broken off, her inscription read, “His Burden Is Light.” As nine more figurines were picked up bit by bit, different events and times burst through my mind. I knew these breakables would never be the same. But also knew they could be glued back together.
Not having anything at home to hold the porcelain parts in place, I went to our local hardware store. When I walked in a friend asked what I was doing. I explained that my grandson had just broken 12 of my precious moment figurines. She gave the cordial “I am sorry” and turned to walk out the door. Stopping she turned back around and said, “You know they are more precious now than ever.” Her statement stopped me in my tracks. “More precious now….than ever.” She was right. They are. The monetary value is gone which didn’t matter, I would never sell them anyway. These figurines are more priceless because of the story that goes with them. Years from now, “T” and I will hold these up one by one…looking at the broken places and retelling the story of the day my Precious Moments became more precious.
This incident has made me think of my life and relationship with God. How many times has He told me “No” or given me the old familiar “slap on the hand.” Rather than listen to Him or heed his warning, I have gone ahead and did what I want. At the time, not realizing what broken pieces it will bring into my life or my loved ones. Sin has a rippling effect that I don’t always realize. At least, not until bits and pieces of my life are laying on the ground at my feet.
It is so easy when I reach this point, to do the same thing ”T” did…try to find something that comforts me. Searching and seeking for something that makes me feel good. A lot of times, this just brings more broken pieces into my life. It is when I finally stop, turn around and run back into my Saviors arms that I am truly comforted. Just like this grandma, My Abba Father is concerned about my hurting heart. He assures me, “Daughter, I still love you.”