Don’t Throw Away That Old Paper Bag Full of Treasures…

Editorial by Robert Kirwan

    A few weeks ago I decided that it was time for me to reorganize and get rid of some of the junk I had accumulated over time - things I haven’t used or even seen in years. I’m sure many of you understand what I was going through. Every now and then we all get the urge to simply unclutter and create space.
  
   I started with the shelves in the garage and soon came upon an old box that at first glance looked like a collection of odds and ends that one would simply classify as junk. However, as I picked up each item, giving serious consideration to tossing it in the garbage pile, I found myself unable to part with it. For you see, each item contained memories of experiences and treasured moments spent with my children as they were growing up. After a couple of hours looking over the memorabilia and replacing each one back into the box, I realized this was an impossible task.
  
   I gave up and went into the house where I searched out a story I once read written by Robert Fulghum about his seven year old daughter, Molly.
  
  It was Molly's job to hand her father his brown paper lunch bag each morning before he headed off to work. One morning, in addition to his usual lunch bag, Molly handed him a second paper bag. This one was worn and held together with duct tape, staples, and paper clips.
  
   "Why two bags" Fulghum asked.
  
    Molly answered. "Just some stuff. Take it with you."
  
   Reluctantly, Fulghum stuffed both sacks into his briefcase, kissed Molly and rushed off. At midday , while hurriedly downing his real lunch, he tore open Molly's bag and shook out the contents: two hair ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny sea shell, two animal crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, two chocolate kisses, and 13 pennies.
  
   Fulghum smiled, finished eating, and swept the desk clean - into the wastebasket - leftover lunch, Molly's junk and all.
  
   That evening, Molly ran up behind him as he read the paper.
  
   "Where's my bag?"
  
   "What bag?"
  
   "You know the one I gave you this morning."
  
   "I left it at the office. Why?"
  
   "I forgot to put this note in it," she said. "And, besides, those are my things in the bag, Daddy, the ones I really like - I thought you might like to play with them, but now I want them back. You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?"
  
   "Oh, no," he said, lying. "I just forgot to bring it home. I'll bring it tomorrow."
  
   While Molly hugged her father's neck, he unfolded the note that had not made it into the sack: "I love you, Daddy."
  
   Molly had given him her treasures. All that a 7-year-old held dear. Love in a paper sack, and he missed it - not only missed it, but had thrown it in the wastebasket. So back he went to the office. Just ahead of the night janitor, he picked up the wastebasket and poured the contents on his desk.
  
   After washing the mustard off the dinosaurs and spraying the whole thing with breath-freshener to kill the smell of onions, he carefully smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper, put the treasures inside and carried it home gingerly, like an injured kitten. The bag didn't look so good, but the stuff was all there and that's what counted.
  
   After dinner, he asked Molly to tell him about the stuff in the sack. It took a long time to tell. Everything had a story or a memory or was attached to dreams and imaginary friends. Fairies had brought some of the things. He had given her the chocolate kisses, and she had kept them for when she needed them.
  
   As I finished reading the story, I realized how important that box on the shelf in my garage was to me.  I began to think of all the times in my life when I must have missed the affection I was being given.  Moments I must have just thrown away like dinosaurs and chocolate kisses wrapped in an old paper bag, each day, each a tiny treasure that could have found their way to the box in my garage.  I guess this is what it means to be standing knee deep in the river and dying of thirst.
  
   We must all remember that it's not the destination that counts in life - it's the journey. The journey with the people we love is all that really matters. Such a simple truth so easily forgotten. 

I’ll never get rid of that box.

Don't Forget To Try Out Your Combinations At Local Business Establishments. It Could Win You A Trip To Cuba!

Valley East Lions' Charity Days
Want to send you and a guest on an all inclusive
Trip for 2 to CUBA!!!!
(+$500 in spending cash)

As was announced in The Vision Paper on July 5, from now until September 9th, 2006, a number of Valley East businesses, merchants and organizations will be giving random combination codes to their valued customers.  There are 5000 codes available.

There are 16 combination locks located in various stores/businesses. If you receive an envelope containing a random combination, please bring it to those locations where locks are located. If your combination opens one of the locks, CONGRATULATIONS! You've made it one step closer...

On September 9th, 2006, all lucky winning combination holders (remember there's only a maximum of 16 people who will make it this far!) will be invited to the Centennial Arena as part of our Valley East Lions' Charity Days festivities. (In the event that nobody opens any of the 16 locks, non-winning combinations, which will be retained by the vendors, will be put into a drum, and a winner will be drawn from there.

At the Valley East Lions' Charity Days, each person will be given another random combination code, one of which will open the treasure chest containing a TRIP FOR TWO TO CUBA!!!

Please support your local businesses and come out to try the combinations. If you have any questions, contact Marcel Servais at 969-5898.

Proceeds from this draw will benefit Palliative Care.