The China Cabinet

In 1979, I was living with my husband in Longview, Texas when my parents came to visit. One of the places I wanted to show my mother was a cluttered antique dealership I passed every day on my drive to work. I’d never stopped there myself, but I’d spotted some items I felt sure would capture Mom’s fancy.

I wasn’t wrong. She loved it! What I didn’t expect was that Mom would purchase a china cabinet. She had wanted one like it since she was a little girl. With no space in their motor home, my parents had to leave the china cabinet at our place, and Mom decided right then that it would be mine one day. We got to enjoy it for the next three years.

When we returned to Manitoba in 1982 with all our earthly belongings stuffed into a cargo van, the china cabinet came with us. We had also acquired, for free, a solid oak WWII surplus desk. (Side note: I love that I write novels set during WWII at this desk!) We laid the china cabinet on its back on top of the desk, stuffed with towels and bedding. Along the way, we stopped for a month in South Dakota where Hubby helped relatives with harvest. By this time, I was chasing our toddler around and carrying baby number two. We unloaded only what we needed and left our van packed to the gills. When we headed for Manitoba in November, we reached the Canadian border near closing time. The customs officer took one look at our overfilled van and said, “I ain’t goin’ through all that stuff. Get outta here.”

We arrived a couple of hours later at my parents’ house in Portage la Prairie. Mom’s china cabinet was finally home.

It moved with her to Winnipeg in the late nineties. When Mom downsized five years ago, the cabinet went to my sister’s house back in Portage where it displayed her collection of nativity sets. Now my sister is downsizing, and the china cabinet stands once more in my home. Since our kitchen already has a built-in cabinet for such things, I don’t need the old girl for china. Instead, we placed it in my office—an arm’s length from the old desk on which it once rode over two thousand kilometers. It displays the books I have for sale and my writing awards. I think it looks great!

Keats wrote, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” I don’t know about forever, but this china cabinet still has many good years ahead of it. Barring a house fire, I’ve no doubt it will be here long after I shuffle off this mortal coil. Maybe it will even hold china again someday.

But for all its history, memories, and beauty, the lovely china cabinet is only a thing. As much as we value it, Mom, Sis, and I would gladly exchange it if doing so meant we could change things we cannot change for ourselves or our loved ones. If the cabinet could buy perfect health, peace of mind, or eternal life, we’d trade it in a heartbeat. If it could mend the wounds that break our hearts or fill the voids left by those we’ve lost… well, I guess everyone would want it. Then I’d have a new set of problems, wouldn’t I?

I’m grateful to know the true source of all healing, peace, and life, and the one who paid the price for them. His name is Jesus. He’s pleased when we learn to love people and use things. Getting it the other way around leads only to misery.