Eureka!

As many adult children do, my own sons have personal belongings stored at my house. I found it impossible to refuse, because my own mother stored stuff for me, way into my adulthood. Actually, there’s a barrel in my garage right now, of scrapbooks I made, growing up, along with a similar barrel filled with JoAnne’s scrapbooks.

Many years ago, Daddy created extra storage above the garage doors. That’s where the boys’ boxes are. It’s mostly Star Wars stuff. Jeremy also had a number of projects from the many art classes he had to take on the way to a Graphic Design degree. After we’d been in this house for a year or so, Jeremy came. He pulled down all the boxes that were labelled “Jeremy” and went through them.  He organized things, like his school yearbooks, and enjoyed spending some time with his old friends Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, et al. As he was replacing items and organizing and evaluating, he suddenly looked around and said, “Where are my LEGOs? Are my LEGOs here? In the house?”

“They are not,” I said.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Jeremy’s LEGO collection consisted of a large notebook that contained all the directions and instructions for all the buildings, vehicles, and landscapes of every LEGO set he ever received. There was a medium-sized orange Tupperware box with dividers, a largish blue Tupperware container with two tiers of divided spaces, and an enormous tackle box with scores of compartments and hundreds of pieces.

“No,” I said. “I’m positive your LEGOs aren’t here. I’d have seen them.”

“Then where are they?” he wanted to know.

“I have no idea.” And I did not.

We all (Kevin and April and Sarah were all there with David and me) posed different possibilities.

Jeremy: “Did you leave them at the other house when you moved?”

Me: “I went through the house several times after the movers were done. I could not possibly have overlooked your extensive LEGO collection.”

David: “Did you leave them in your house in Fort Worth when you left for New York?”

The Rest of Us: “In a one bedroom, one bathroom, small kitchen, small living room space? Not possible to overlook all those containers.”

Me: “Did you maybe donate them to the church (Jeremy’s church owned the duplex where he was living, right behind the church itself), and forget that you did that?”

Jeremy: “Unlikely. It was my LEGO collection.”

He searched again all his boxes, and then went through all Kevin’s boxes. No Town LEGOs.

We were absolutely mystified. And remained so for several years.

Last winter, David was away at a museum meeting and I was working in the garage. I had some spare pieces of Elfa (a shelving system) and found a space, way up at the top of the garage, in a corner, where they could go. I got out the big ladder and the level and the drill and some screws. The work wasn’t particularly difficult, but I was up on a ladder, several feet off the concrete floor, wedged between the wall and some boxes that were on shelves that hang suspended from the garage ceiling, that David and the boys (and the girls) put up a few months after we moved in here. It held mostly Christmas stuff, and those things one never uses or needs, but can’t bring one’s self to throw out.

After I drilled holes and screwed the support piece to the wall, I turned around to go down the ladder, and found myself squarely facing a largish cardboard box that said “Jeremy” “Garage.” In my sister’s handwriting. Which meant she had closed that box in preparation for the movers, so they would know where to put it, and we would know whose stuff it was.

I phoned Jeremy and left the message, “Call me right away. Not an emergency, but just important.”

He was curious and returned the call pretty quickly.

I said, “Really, FaceTime would be better.” So I hung up and he made the FaceTime call.

“Let me show you,” I said, carrying my phone as I narrated my steps.

See! They *did* help!

“I’m putting up some shelves here in the corner. It’s a tight squeeze getting up here. See, now I’m going up the steps. Now, I’m standing on the highest rung I can manage. Now I’m turning around, and I’m facing those hanging shelves that you and Kevin helped Daddy put up.”

“What shelves?” Jeremy said. I related the story about how everyone was here for Thanksgiving, and I was getting these hanging shelves for Christmas and the boys, and girls, put them up.

“I have no memory of that,” Jeremy said.

“Well,” I said, ‘I have photos and I will send them to you and prove that you helped do that, but here’s the more important thing.”

I turned the phone so he could see and read what was on the box.

Okay. I know it’s a little hard to read. But it does say “Jeremy” “Garage”

“When you were going through all your things, did you take down this box.?” I asked.

“No. Why do you think it’s up there?” he said. “And not with my other boxes?”

“I think that after the shelves were hung, you guys just picked up some boxes that were lying around the garage, and shoved them onto the shelves. And no one ever thought about them again. So, you want me to take the box down now? Or do you want to wait until you’re here next time.”

He wanted to wait.

And I guess you can figure out what happened. A couple of things had to to be pulled down first, but then that box came down, and as Jeremy was pulling it to the front of the hanging shelf, he said, “There’s a hole in the box, and I can see inside. I see my LEGO notebook.”

TA-DAH!

That evening, Jeremy opened up everything. He pointed out all the little compartments and described what kind of piece each one held. He lovingly flipped through the notebook, and looked at all the instructions. He stayed up into the night, putting together the Cargo Center.

It was a great visit.

`What woman will not do this? She has ten pieces of silver money. If she loses one of them, she lights a lamp and sweeps the house. She looks for the money until she finds it.When she has found it, she calls her friends and neighbours to come. She says, “Be glad with me! I have found the piece of money I lost.” I tell you, the angels of God will be glad like that when one bad person stops doing wrong things.’
Luke 15:8-10 (Worldwide English New Testament)

We’ve all got things that are important to us, things we don’t want to lose, things we’re thrilled to see after a long separation, friends we re-connect with on Facebook. We know exactly how it feels to find a lost thing that we care about. That means we know exactly how the angels feel when just one bad person “stops doing wrong things.”
I can imagine how I’d feel if I was instrumental in helping that happen.