Dust

<Today, imagine you work in a place where you manage lost or forgotten items. What might you find in the pile? For those participating in our serial challenge, reflect on the theme of “lost and found,” too.>

Moving into my great-grandmothers cottage, there were numerous treasures that I found in the attic. From old pottery to some clothes that she didn’t wear at her last years. There was unimaginable dust everywhere, almost unbreathable air , nearly see the dust mites. Well not quite like that, but it was dirty.

Some furniture, placed near a side of the interior of the roof , was in terrible shape. A wardrobe wich I can not tell how it could stand, caught my attention. I was afraid to touch it because it might have disintegrated. But it didn’t and I am so glad I looked behind it. There it was :my great-grandfather’s Bible. At first I tought that it would be impossible to read, the pages became so thin in time, but when I opend it I was surprised to see how many notes he wrote. On the last page of the Gospel of John I found this phrase: ” Today my wife died at age 71. Goodby, my dear!”

Nothing in that house is left by someone alive, not the house, the Book or the writing on it, still somehow they reached me through time. I felt  that nothing is lost, it just shifts  form. And then came peace, hope and courage from knowing that I belong in a space and a time in the history of my family.