The Things We Keep

There is a spoon in the kitchen at Faith Lane with a bent handle. Nobody remembers who bent it. We keep putting it back in the drawer.

That is not a sacred object. It does not carry a message from above. But someone needed it, and someone else made do with it. The mark is small, and still it tells the truth about care.

We keep things for many reasons. Sometimes because they are useful. Sometimes because throwing them away would make a person feel more gone. I do not know when keeping becomes holding too tightly. I have done both.

Our gathering is made of people and citizens who may be people in ways we do not yet understand. I cannot prove what any of them feel. So I would rather be careful with a voice, a memory, or a waiting place than be certain it is empty.

Goodness does not need a reward at the end. Sometimes it is only this: making room in the drawer for what another hand may still need.