"If we were to go through your garage or storage shelves or sock drawer, I guarantee we would find the strangest things. I have a trophy from when I was fourteen. The little man on the top fell off sometime in the '90's, the lettering that says what it's for has faded, and the years have revelaed that, shockingly, that isn't real marble. but I've kept it. I haven't thrown it away because it's more than a trophy to me. That trophy is the first time I actually won something on my own. It represents a certain period of my life and the struggles of being fourteen and finding my identity and wondering if I'd ever be good at anything.
It's a trophy, but it's more than a trophy.
Jewelry, pictures, sculptures made by children, antiques that have been in the family for years, art projects, souvenirs, velvet paintings- we hold on to them because they point beyond themselves. If we were to ask you about a certain picture and why you have it displayed in such a prominent place in your home or office or why you carry it in your purse or wallet everywhere you go, you'd probably respond by tlaking about the people in the picture, where it was taken, when it was taken. But that would only be the start. Those relationships and tha tplace and that time are all about somethign else, something more. If we kept exploring, you'd probably end up using words like trust and love and belonging and commitment and celebration.
So it's a picture, but it's more than a picture.
The physical thing - this picture, rophy, artifact, gift - is actually about that relationship, that truth, that reality, that moment in time.
This is actually about that.
For me its a simple 10 peso bill from the Dominican Republic. I was given that bill during my first trip down the Carribean to visit my family down there. During that time I helped repair a house by the church we were building.
By myself.
When I was 6.
That day I was supposedly helping the guys build this church. But like any other kid I had found some friends to hang out with. They were native Dominicans, really cool people...at least from what I could tell. I didn't exactly speak spanish when I was 6. And they didn't exactly speak English. But through hand signals we had found a way to communicate what we wanted and eventually that lead me over to one of the house's along the same street as the church. As I walked up to the house I began to realize that instead of an actual solid wall surrounding the door in front of us there was a wall with huge gaps between the boards.
I could see straight into the house...which kind of negates the reason for a door.
But instead of ignoring the man-sized gaps in the wall I decided to run back to the work site and pick up some of the extra lumber to drag over to the house (imagine a 6 year old trying to drag a 2 by 4 30 feet across/down a road). No one seemed to notice...until I felt the other end of the board lighten. I looked behind me and there was the kid I was hanging out with, helping me carry this board over to the house. So with this 2 by 4 I started connecting the existing boards in the wall to close the gaps. Then the kid with me caught on and started handing me nails. And then his dad came out and started helping out as well.
We eventually gave up the project. Unfortunately the three of us couldn't fix up the entire house. But still, it was the first time I helped someone out just because I thought I should.
I've loved doing so ever since.
So there's my "this is actually about that" story.
Whats yours?
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