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.