When we were kids, my mom made treasure boxes for each of us. They were dry milk boxes covered with colorful contact paper. Mine has since graduated from the dry milk box into an old military army trunk that used to be my Grandpa’s. It is still filled with my childhood drawings and treasures – awards, ribbons, excellent scores on tests, special pictures, what ever was important to me as a child is still in there now. It now also contains my college keepsakes, wedding invitations, and the tiny afghan that once held my stillborn baby. Opening the trunk is like a walk down the memory lane of my life.
I have made treasure boxes for my kids as well. Theirs are inexpensive, but sturdy plastic boxes with lids. They have rocks, pictures, awards, certificates, cool school assignments, birthday cards, special baby outfits, and the blanket I wrapped them in as an infant. Later on perhaps most of these things won’t seem as important as they once did, but they evoke memories of the child that once was. They give a peek into a small soul and that is worth treasuring.