Forgotten Treasures

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

I was seven years old. Walking in the street, I found a weighty piece of crystal glass, curved in the form of a wave. On the one hand, there is an uneven fracture that scratches to blood.

I washed the find, examined it and realized that I was holding a real treasure in my hands. The painfully scratching edge shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. The world through the thickness of crystal glass took on fantastic outlines. Trees and people became thinner and more winding, a rainbow haze appeared around the houses, and the sky seemed close, close - reach out and touch.

I ran home to show my mother a wonderful find. She indifferently turned it over in her hands: “Well, this is a splinter from a clock! Why do you need him?! Someone threw it away, and you picked it up”, - with these words I recalled a massive, which seemed to me very arrogant clock in Aunt Nadia's house. In my head, my treasure and the bulky ugly clock on the dresser did not connect in any way.

From my mother's words, it was as if a blind shutter on the window slammed shut in her chest, and everything that had previously been flooded with bright cheerful sunlight plunged into darkness: “Is my find just a discarded fragment from a stupid clock ?! Can not be!"

I hugged my treasure to my chest, trying to protect from devaluing words. I took it to a cache where other wonderful finds were already kept.

There was a dark blue-green feather from the tail of a neighbor's rooster. He brazenly displayed his flamboyant beauty as he walked along the street. All my attempts to catch him, in order to borrow at least one feather, did not lead to success. Once I found a rooster feather near our yard. It was happiness!

In the cache was an old, old inkwell, found in grandfather's attic. Metal dark from time to time. Patterned lid with a protrusion, by pressing which you can open the ink tank.

A matchbox with a yellow lemongrass butterfly that has fallen asleep forever. Non-whistling with old age and cracks in the side, wooden, once red, bird-whistle. Dark blue glass rectangular bottle with a transparent glass cap from under mother's lotion. Bright rags, colored glass, beautiful buttons, a metal plaque from a belt. And much more.

Nobody knew about this cache. Sometimes I, hiding from everyone, went through my treasures and felt very, very rich and happy. The world after communicating with these things seemed magical, filled with wonders and joy.

After some time, my friend invited me to my birthday. I thought for a long time what to give her. And then I remembered about the treasures. The solution came immediately: an antique inkwell and a magic glass. These were the most dear things from the collection to my heart. I really wanted to share the treasures with a loved one.

I carefully wrapped them in the most beautiful paper, tied them with a blue satin ribbon from my cache. She walked and dreamed of how a friend would open the package, how she would admire, and the world would become one more happy person.

In addition, my mother's careless words about my discovery sat like an icy splinter in my chest. I expected that the joy and admiration of my friend would melt the ice, and I would again begin to enjoy my secret treasures.

But the miracle did not happen. A friend opened my gift with joyful anticipation. Smiling perplexedly, she picked up an inkwell and a piece of crystal. Perplexedly listened to my enthusiastic story about these treasures. Politely thanked and … indifferently pushed them away from her. At that moment, I saw with love the gift I had collected through her eyes: old, unnecessary things …

Then, when my mother and I were walking, the girl's mother came up to us and, smiling, told about my gift. Embarrassed, my mother asked: "Why did you give this old stuff ?!"

I don’t remember what I answered. I don't remember if a new gift was made to that girl. But after that I lost all interest in my treasures. A year later, we moved to a new home. I did not carry the treasures with me …

… I didn’t like living in a new big house and a new area. I yearned for an old small apartment, a cozy street, friendly neighbors. It seemed to me that the move ended the joy and miracles in the world, and therefore in my life. It is possible that this was the reaction to the stress of the move. It is possible that I have matured. And it is possible that along with the "forgotten" treasures, I left the ability to wonder and rejoice.

It was only many years later, as a result of psychotherapy, that the feeling of home returned to me. The ability to see the miraculous in everyday life, to admire and admire the most ordinary things returned.

Take care of your treasures and the treasures of your inner child!

And if you have forgotten how to take care of it, contact us - together we will find a way to your inner treasures and the ability to be happy.