When I was younger I’d go shopping in a little gift shop that we just called “Eleanor Hutcherson’s”.  I don’t know if that was the name of the shop, or if that was the name of the owner. It was near the corner of Main and Rt. 10.   It was a shop that I mainly remember for the trinkets and jewelry.  What can I say, my attraction to shiny things started early.

I remember shopping there with Mom, Grandmom and my sister.  Both Mom and Grandmom would buy some of their jewelry there.   Every once in a while, Mom would let Lorene and I pick out something special for Grandmom.  I loved doing that.  (Looking back, I wish I could remember what time of the year it was.  I wonder if it was near Grandmom’s birthday or Mother’s Day?  Mom had a way of still honoring those events without ‘celebrating’ them which other JW’s wouldn’t do.  You may recall me mentioning that my Mother was not ‘raised’ a JW).

Like I was saying every once in a while, she would announce that we were going shopping for Grandmom.  Usually, we would go to Eleanor’s.  I didn’t rush the process.  I wanted to take my time.  It had to be just right.   I remember these little white boxes, soft, fluffy cotton inside, propping up their treasures, all lined up on tables.  I’d pour over the boxes, looking for one thing in particular.  Pansies.

I remember Grandmom having items around the house with pansies on them.  I have always associated pansies with Grandmom.  Later I started associating poppies with her too, because I came to realize that she loved them just as much.

Mostly, though pansies were something that I’d look for when I wanted to pick up ‘a little something’ for her.   Pansies were what I was looking for back then among the white boxes.

I wasn’t disappointed.

I remember her wearing them.  I remember where she kept them.  She kept them in a little white box in her dresser with the rest of her jewelry.

Now they live in a little white box in my jewelry chest.

That memory shines on as much as they still do.