In the back of my grandparents’ closet sat an old cedar chest filled with blankets and linens. I loved that beautiful chest and the smell of the blankets when they came out of storage. My grandmother told me it had been crafted by my great-great-great grandfather for his daughter. I always imagined it traveling with my great-great grandmother from Plymouth, New Hampshire, to Boston when she married, and I often wonder about its history and the stories it could tell. When my grandmother passed away, I brought the cedar chest home. Over the years, the chest was scratched and the legs cracked. I recently had it lightly refinished because I wanted it to continue to tell its story. The refinisher was astonished at the level of craftsmanship that went into the chest’s construction, but I like to think it was built by a father using his craft to express his love for his daughter. (Read more.)Share
The Mystical Doctor
1 week ago
No comments:
Post a Comment