Acorns in the Pantry

While preparing dinner one evening, I went to retrieve something from the pantry and made an unexpected discovery.  Perched on one of the shelves, I found a small dish whose usual spot was on an end table in the living room. I picked it up examining its contents.  It held a small scattering of acorns.  Just enough to fill a tiny hand.

A few days prior I had babysat my two-year-old grandson late one afternoon for his parents while they ran some errands.  As we often do on his visits, we went down to the pond to throw rocks in the water, walk up and down the shed ramp, and pick up acorns. He loves to gather as many as he can hold and carry them around with him. 

“Link, why don’t you put your acorns in your pocket?”  He looked at me quizzically.  I reached down and introduced him to his pants pocket.  “Po-cket”, he said stuffing the acorns in.  We continued our adventures and periodically he would grab his pant leg where the acorns bulged and say, “po-cket”.

When it was time to go inside, the acorns came with us.  He proceeded to empty the pocket putting the acorns into the little dish and then commenced to ‘cooking’ them with various ingredients from the pantry. It was at some point during this that they wound up on the pantry shelf unbeknownst to me. 

I pushed aside the acorns to reveal the words printed in the bottom of the dish and the unmistakable message being delivered to me. “Love hopes all things.”  

There are many seeds I’ve gathered along my journey.  Little nuggets of potential that I cradled and watched over becoming discouraged when I didn’t see any sign of sprouting. Then when more immediate concerns pressed in demanding my time and attention, those treasures were put up on a shelf, shoved back into the dark all but forgotten.

Seasons and eons passed, and a changed person walked to the pantry and pulled the seeds down from their hiding place. Had all dreams expired and every good thing already been experienced? I remembered the Dove chocolate candy wrapper that I’d tucked away in my journal like a wish I’d hoped would come true. “It’s never too late. You’re never too old.”

Perhaps this changed person is wiser and braver. Perhaps the possibilities held in secret by Love and Hope are still viable. Perhaps all things are possible.

Love lives in me, and I hope.