A MOM’S CHEST OF HOPE by Pennie Hunt

 Most of our moms had one. As a little girl, I remember how the smell of cedar filled the room when we opened it. It felt like a secret treasure box filled with photos, linens, and memories.

Although Hope Chests can be traced back to the 15th century in Europe, the tradition of a Hope Chest became popular in America in the 20th century. Hardworking parents would give them to their daughters as birthday and graduation gifts. Young women filled them with linens, cookbooks, dishes, and special items wrapped in the hopes and dreams of their future marriage.

I can only imagine the items my Mom filled her Hope Chest with. The pillowcases she embroidered. The crocheted doilies that would cover the tables in the home she would share with her future husband. The secret treasures wrapped in hopes and dreams.

Years ago, my Mom gave me the chest. For a long time it sat in the corner of a room with little fanfare or attention. The one broken leg was replaced with a block of wood so it would sit level. It was something I didn’t think much about. It was just a place to store blankets.

It was when my Mom was in her last years that I saw the chest patiently waiting for me. Waiting for me to notice her under the pile of blankets that had overflowed from the inside to completely cover the top of her. Maybe it was the impending loss of my Mom that made me think of her. Maybe it was hope that drew me to her. Maybe it was the power of memories that pulled me to recognize her as the special piece of history she was.

I threw the blankets off her and raised the lid. The smell of cedar circled me with memories. I could see the chest once again in my Mom’s bedroom positioned in a place of honor. She was like a princess that held treasures of her kingdom and my Mom had treated her with the deserved respect of royalty.

 I remembered as a child opening it and seeing my Mom’s wedding book and her wedding dress folded neatly and wrapped in plastic. My fingers would stretch a hole in the plastic to feel the lace and imagine my Mom wearing it as she walked down the aisle to meet my dad.  

I realized I had not treated her with the same reverence as my Mom had. She was deserving of much more than to be a blanket holder. I arranged to have her professionally refinished. When she was delivered back to my home, her glow of royalty was back.

Now she sits proudly at the foot of my guest room bed as if the princess is back in a fitting place of honor. Her broken leg is repaired and back to its original strength and position of holding her upright and level. The hinges and ornamental hardware are polished and looks as if her shining crown is once again proudly displayed. She is now filled with photos, antique linens, and memories. Memories of my Mom, me, our life together, and my life as a Mom.

Someday this special chest will belong to my daughter. My hope is that she will see the importance of the Hope Chest and the power it holds. The power to not only hold memories, but to bring them to life in the deepest part of your heart. The power to hold and cherish your hopes and dreams in order to pass them into the hands of the future. My hope is she will place her in a space of honor and respect, fitting the princess she is.
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                                               Pennie’s Life Lesson:
                        Remember the memories, hopes, and dreams that
                                           your Mom passes on to you.
                       Cherish them and treat them with the respect they deserve.
                               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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YOUR TURN...        
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