A"junk room" loaded with real treasures

I have often wondered what kind of legacy I will leave.

How will people remember me? Or maybe, most importantly, what kind of things do I treasure?

I will admit that I own quite a bit of memorabilia. I have a commemorative bottle extolling the Kentucky Colonels' 1975 American Basketball Association championship. That RC Cola is still in the bottle just as it was 40 years ago.

Another cool piece of sports history in my possession is a special Wheaties box that came out after my beloved Cincinnati Reds won the World Series in 1990. Two members of that team, Chris Sabo and Ron Oester, have autographed the box.

Sheet music of the Oak Ridge Boys'
hit, "King Jesus" from 1973. I found
it while cleaning out a "junk room" at
my mother's house.

I'm quite a sports fan – I do make my living as a sports editor, you know – and I cherish my the autograph I collected from the great Walter Payton after interviewing him at the Chicago Bears' practice facility in 1985. I also like to pull out my copy of “The Mick,” Mickey Mantle's autobiography, where the New York Yankees' Hall of Famer personalized the copy.

As a country music fan, I am quite proud that I have an autograph from Randy Owen, of Alabama, and Joe Bonsall of the Oak Ridge Boys. And as a history buff, I have a few artifacts from my father's time in the Pacific during and immediately after World War II.

While I am proud of my memorabilia, I must admit most of it was acquired by chance. I certainly don't pay large sums of money for artifacts. To me, that makes them even more special.

Recently, I was confronted with a different way of looking at the items we keep. It might have been one of the most profound lessons I have ever learned.

My wife and I were cleaning out a room at my mother's house. Mom is now 86-years-old and does not get around very well and the stroke she suffered nearly three years ago has taken its toll. The room had become somewhat of a storage room and was becoming a safety hazard.

The stash needed to be thinned out desperately. Some things, like old coffee cups, or broken toys, were easily thrown out.

The program for the100 years of
Corinth Christian Church celebration.
I found this momento of that special
day while cleaning a room at m
mother's house.

But eventually we got to some storage containers that were undoubtedly important to my mom. When we opened them we found her real treasures.

There were Bibles, some over 50 years old. There were some King James translations, a New American Standard Bible and several well worn copies of the New International Version.

We found a program from the 100^th Anniversary celebration of Corinth Christian Church. It was held in August of 1970. She had grown up in that old country church and made sure her family made it a part of our lives.

We found some old hymnals along with what I estimated to be several hundred copies of sheet music. You see, my mom played the piano at Corinth for over 57 years. Music is important to her, and songs with messages that talk about the Lord she loves are the most valuable.

Looking through the titles, I found the music to some gospel hits from the Oak Ridge Boys, the Rambos, Speers, and Bill Gaither, among others. And as I opened the copy of Gov. Jimmie Davis' “What a Day That Will Be,” the sounds of my mother and her sister sitting around the piano singing that great gospel classic were as vivid as they were when I was a young child.

I heard my mom and aunt sing this song
many times.

I looked at my wife and could only think of the times I looked into that room and saw just a junk room. Everything had changed.

“This is what is important to her,” I said. “Her life has always been her church. Only now, I think I understand just how much it meant.”

I was expecting to be glad to get rid of what I thought was junk, not get a profound lesson about what is truly important.

But now I'm glad we took the afternoon to clean that room.

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matthew 6:21)