first dusty old paperback books, or country and western eight track tapes, or
kitchen utensils, or vacuums that couldn’t possibly be working any more. There
were many boxes of bell jars. There were religious statues. There were home made
candles. There was yarn and knitting needles. There were art supplies. There were
incomplete collections of plates with state maps on them. There was jewelry and
purses and I found a really nice old poster of Mae West.
All of this clutter actually made it hard to see the beauty of the furniture we
were supposedly shopping for but Jill and I worked our way down three or four
rows discovering treasures as we went. There were several pieces we actually
considered. It was certain that had either Jill or I made the trip alone we would
have filled the rental truck a lot sooner because we spent a good deal of time
talking each other out of purchases. For instance, I found a wing backed chair that
would have gone very nicely in my bedroom and probably would have bought it
had Jill not pointed out the huge rip in the fabric on the back of the chair. Jill found
a nice dining set that was much better than the one currently in my dining room,
and she probably would have bought it when I pointed out that the chairs were
rather small and not at all comfortable to sit in.
Jill and I were actually looking at a brass bed frame arguing about whether it
was queen size or king size when Lola walked up to us and introduced herself as
“Lola Martin, caretaker of the world’s treasures and grand daughter of the original
owner.” She, pointed out that the bed was in fact queen sized but promised that
there was a king sized brass frame in the next row over.
Lola followed us up and down the aisles and our progress actually got
slower because Lola had a story for every single piece in her shop and it was
obvious she loved each and every treasure dearly. I found myself really enjoying
her stories though and quickly an hour went by without us making a single
purchase. We were at the back of the store at the end of the last row of furniture
and I almost felt cheated that the wonderful woman would not be able to tell us any
more stories of her treasures, so, simply to prolong our stay I asked what was
behind the door that was hidden there. Lola apologized that it was a small
workroom off her loading dock where she kept pieces that she had bought which
were not yet show room quality. In other words she had to clean them up a bit
before she could sell them. I begged like a little school girl to be shown the prizes
the store room hid. I guess we were lucky that there were no other customers
currently in the store because Lola sighed and reluctantly took out an old key and
unlocked the door.
There must have been about a dozen pieces of furniture in the room but I
saw only one. Immediately old memories flooded my brain. I am an only child but
my mother was from a family of six girls. Occasionally we would visit Grand-ma
and Papa, and inevitably when we did my mother and her sisters and my grand-
