(Golden Age of Gaia)
by Digger Barr
https://gaiasgardens.guru/
The cardboard box was large but sat innocuous on the folding table.
The folding table next to the other portable table next to the heavy wooden picnic table which was painted bright red.
No one knew where the box came from.
Women were busy arranging arriving dishes on the eclectic collection of table cloths.
We were expecting a large group in about an hour.
Preparing the tables was the immediate task at hand.
The large cardboard box didn’t move.
It was becoming the center of attention.
There were actually three boxes. Two smaller ones sat alongside the 3 foot by 3 foot square mystery.
Discussion about how much room we needed for what traveled across the tables and flowed through the tent towards two more tables past the box.
Desserts of course will go down there.
An older gentleman arrived in bicycle gear carrying a small water jug.
His shirt was an infused image of a lion brilliant and bold in bright color.
He stood uncertainly at the table holding the mysterious box.
He was surrounded by directing women.
He started telling his story in a quiet explanation manner.
He didn’t really look at anyone. He just started talking while he addressed the cardboard box.
‘My wife passed away last month’, he said.
The women stopped directing and looked at him.
He took the lid off the biggest box and continued, ‘I found this in the basement. I had no idea we even owned it. I had never seen it before’.
He lifted IT out of the box.
A large silver punch bowl emerged shining bright and gleamed in polished perfection.
‘I didn’t know what to do with it’, he said. ‘ I thought it should be used so I brought it here.’
He took a matching ladle from a smaller box. ‘I polished it so it would look like it should.’
The quiet moment had its effect. We fell in love with this gentle man.
The busy women went back to arranging where to place the bowl, down on the end next to the desserts.
They directed the man so that he had a good space for his contribution.
Everything was fitting together nicely.
The punch bowl sat as anchor on the end of the row of tables.
The lion printed shirt appeared and disappeared until the bowl was filled with a bright red punch.
At last he stood still and examined his work. The punch was sweet with fruit flavor.
Cups were stacked on top of the tablecloth next to the bowl.
Arranging was complete.
The crowd began filtering in. The next time I saw the bowl it was empty.
I didn’t get to see it go back into the box. It departed as gently as it had arrived.
I cannot say I have ever witnessed such a tribute to a dearly loved wife.
I know she was there and was very pleased to have finally used that beautiful silver punch bowl.
This tribute gives us all pause.
It reminds us to take a moment to honor our lives.
To honor that which we hold dear and the dreams that we carry in our hearts.
Until we meet again.
Precious memories will carry us through.
Thank you sweet bicycle gear lion hearted man
Digger2023