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Wednesday, February 22 2012


As humans, we tend to arbitrarily assign value to things. A simple rock becomes worth a great deal . . .

Some have more value than others . . .

Note how the sun bounces off it. Feel the smooth, cool surface. The dip in the middle. See the beauty of it?

No?

Look again.

Really?

You don't see the value in this?

"But . . . but . . . it's a just a rock."

Ahhh . . . but it's not!  This rock has something more precious than a monetary value. This rock has history.

I brought this rock to the new ranch this weekend and proudly set it by the door step. It looked like so many other rocks on the ranch, Other Half just had to say,

"Tell me again, why THIS rock is so important."

So I told him what I'm telling you:

"This rock has been in my family for years. It's travelled across the country. I brought it from North Carolina. When I was a child, this rock sat under the water spigot at my home. I still remember setting my dirty toes on the smooth surface and turning the spigot with tiny fingers to clean the dirt off my bare feet.

    A generation before that, this rock served as the stepping stone at the door of my mother's playhouse when she was a little girl. It was found in the Pamlico River of Eastern North Carolina, thought to be a ballast from a ship.  Ships were weighted down with these rocks, which were then dumped when they entered the shallow waters of the river. This area was frequented by pirates and the ballasts are commonly believed to come from those pirate ships. This area was reportedly the stomping ground of Blackbeard. This rock has HISTORY!"

And so, more precious than diamonds and pearls, this stone has continued its journey from the shores of Eastern North Carolina to the rocky hillside of North Texas. When I finally build my little cabin, my "Girasole", my place in the sun, this rock will serve as the stepping stone at the doorway. 

And who knows, perhaps it will continue its journey, handed down through generations, a silent observer to the history of our family . . .

through others . . .

. . . who see great value in rocks.

 

 

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 11:39 am   |  Permalink   |  1 Comment  |  Email
Comments:
I envy you your sense of history. But I can't help but say: it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "passing a stone" he-he.
Posted by EvenSong on 02/22/2012 - 11:21 PM

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